77359 COMED Y. AS IT IS PERFORMED AT THE THEATRE-ROYA L, COVENT-GARDEN. By FREDERICK REYNOLDS. LONDON PRINTED BY W. WOODFALL: AND SOLD BY T. N. LONGMAN, PATERNOSTER-ROW, EPILOGUE. Written by MILES PETER ANDREWS, Efq. And Spoken by Mr. LEWIS, in the Character of NOMINAL. ONCE more, my friends, here's Nominal the glorious, Again attempting to be more notorious. What's life without it? Afk the Buck, the Wit ; The fashion'd Peer, and the no-fashion'd Cit. Renown's the word---Men, Women, Girls and Boys, Write, fight, game, drink, and drefs to make a noise. "Dam'ne, I'm up to that, cries Bobby Crop, "No fellow in the town fhall me out-top; "I'll have a dock as clofe as young Lord Wizen, "For dam'me, an't my head as thick as his'n ?" Then, like a fighting cock, trimm'd short and bare, He mounts his fpurs, and crows away---look there! What crowds of defp'rate heroes fall for fame, And lose their characters to raise a name. See the fine wife of fome plain country 'Squire, To ev'ry town-bred folly swift aspire--- Thus Thus wide diffus'd thro' all this bustling town Eh, Jack! On Change to day? How goes Lot. Tick? "Ha---feen Bob's Curricle---it goes curft quick. "The Builder fays---'twixt us---it goes on tick--"Been dipping, hey, at Margate or at Brighton ? "Touch'd ten last night, and ev'ry one a light one. "Hey, Tom, how do?---Oh, is that you, Dick Docket! "You've stole my ftick---No, damme, it's in my pocket.” There's proof enough, we truft you will agree, That life's great aim, is Notoriety. Our Bard and I, acknowledge both this feature, |