Worthy sir, she exclaimed, right welcome you be,
But pray now relate the whole matter to me,
What person it was that made use of my name,
Because to affront you he was much to blame :
Dear sir, I am sorry and grieved in heart,

That you should have had such affront on your part,
Then all the whole matter he soon did declare;
The lady she smil'd, for she could not forbear.
He had but small stomach to eat at the first,
Her kind entertainment made him to mistrust
That it was but some juggle the matter to prove,
He greeted the lady with proffers of love.
She said, I now fancy that you have red hair,
Dear madam, you wrong me, I solemnly swear:
So his wig he pull'd off, and then throwing it down,
Cry'd, madam, behold now my hair it is dark brown.
The lady burst out into laughter, and said,
Your wig will just fit me, as I am a maid;
She her head dress pull'd off, and his wig she put on,
Saying, sir, do I look like a handsome young man ?
The gentleman's heart then began to rejoice,
Saying, that is the face and the sweet pretty voice,
Which I met with at Bury, therefore be not coy,
For now I am crowned with rapture and joy.
Why sir, are you sure on it, perhaps you mistake?
No madam, I do not, my oath I can take.
Then how do you like me, sir, tell unto me?
Sweet honoured lady, right happy I be.
Then a lady excuse sir, I beg and intreat,
For I'm a poor captive who lies at your feet;
I now crave your pardon for being so rude
On such a kind gentleman thus to intrude.
'Tis true sir, I want not for silver or gold:
I hope you'll excuse me for being so bold;

For love is a witchcraft, none can it withstand,
When little brisk Cupid gets the upper hand.
Dear lady, your love makes amends for it all,
And therefore in right happy splendor we shall
Be crowned with comfort, when we are both ty'd,
And I shall be bless'd with a beautiful bride.
At Bow-church in London then married they were;
Attended with gentlemen and ladies fair,
They rode down to Bury, and as many say,
Great feastings there lasted for many a day.

Prologue,

SPOKEN AT THE LOWESTOFT THEATRE,

On Thursday, August 14, 1790.

On Thursday, August 14, 1790, previously to the performance of the "School for Scandal" by Mr. Hamston's Company of Comedians, the following excellent Prologue, written by a Gentleman of Lowestoft, was spoken by Mr. R. Hamstow.

Votaries of Pleasure! who delight to gaze

On Fashion's scenes, in London's midnight blaze,
Such sickening joys Hygeia bids you quit,
And offers genuine health for spurious wit.
The rosy goddess here her blessings pours,
And Peers resort to Lowestoft's peerless shores.

Lowestoft, in whose delightful and invigorating sea-breezes the valetudinarian seeks for health, and the healthy for pleasure, stands upon an eminence commanding a fine and extensive pros.

When college feasts have sore oppress'd the brain With indigestion foul, and vap'rous pain,

Each Son of Science, whose great genius halts,
Disdains both Scotia's pills, and Glauber's salts;
Here drench'd and cleans'd, the mathematic tribe
Draw circles on the sand, and tread on Newton's kibe.
With turtle cramm'd, with self-importance big,
The pamper'd Cit here mounts his tow'ring gig;
A cant'ring poney Madam far prefers,
For diff'rent is her spouse's case and hers:

pect of the German ocean; and presents in itself, when beheld from the sea, the most picturesque and beautiful appearance of any town upon the eastern coast. From the height of its situation, and the dryness of its soil, it is not exposed to any of those unwholesome damps and noxious vapors, which arise from low and marshy grounds.

The shore here is bold and steep, being composed of a hard sand, intermixed with shingle, and perfectly free from ooze, and those beds of mud so frequently met with on many shores: this renders it firm and pleasant for walking. The steepness of the beech too is considered of singular advantage in sea bathing, as depth of water can always be obtained, without the machines pro ceeding far into the sea. Four of them are kept here for the use of the company, by whom this place has of late been much fre quented; and the Lodging Houses, in general, command very good views of the sea.

The air at Lowestoft is reckoned remarkably invigorating and healthy; it is keen, but bracing, and particularly adapted to nervous and debilitated constitutions; provided there is no consumptive tendency.

For a more minute and circumstantial account of this Town and its antiquities, I must refer the reader to "An Historical Account of the Antient Town of Lowestoft, in the County of Suffolk. To which is added some ursory Remarks on the Adjoining Parishes, and a General Account of the Island of Lothingland. By Edmund Gillingwater. London. 1790." 4to. one of the most interesting of our Topographical Works; as well as to "The Lowestoft Guide: containing a Descriptive Account of Lowestoft, and its Environs. By a Lady. Embellished with Engravings. Yarmouth, 1812. ' 12mo. a very useful and well-written Vade Mecum for the visitant. "Nashe's Lenten Stuff, concerning the Description and first Procreation and Increase of the Town of Great Yarmouth, in Norfolk, with a New Play never played before of the praise of the Red Herring. Fit of all Clerks and Noblemen's Kitchens to be read; and not unnecessary by all Serving-Men, who have short Board Wages, to be remembered. Lond. 1599." 4to; cont. 83 pages, is well known to every Antiquary. Swinden observes that Nashe, in his "Lenten Stuffe," designed nothing more than a joke upon our staple, red herrings; and being a native of Lowestoft, the enmity of that town and Yarmouth led him to attempt that by humour, which more sober reason could not accomplish.

This from the stomach noxious bile wou'd send ;
That braces nerves all shatter'd at Mile-end.

Full many a Rake, whose slender, shrunken shanks
Trembled 'ere while, like feather-edged planks,
Finds gentlest zephyrs pristine strength restore,
Recall'd to life on Lowestoft's friendly shore:
Blesses her fostering air, her strengthening flood,
And her new turnpike road-for bits of blood.
From Inns of Court young Barristers depart,
To practice here Demosthenes's art;

Like him, to winds and waves they mimic spout,
And beat th' old stammering Grecian out and out.
To kinder regions, say, can virtue rove,
Pure vestal chastity or plighted love?
Here no seducers pant for lawless charms,
But willing Nereids woo them to their arms.
Great Neptune's self, while virgin beauty laves,
To Halcyon stillness calms his subject waves:
Safe is the squeamish fair from every eye,
For Chloe dips, where Strephon cannot pry:
Maid, wife, and widow the same passion feels,
And curl round sea god Nestor neck and heels.
In Fame's fair annals be that spot enrol'd,
Whose beauties rival Babylon of old;
Her hanging gardens* here display'd we view,
Which ancient bards in feign'd description drew.

The slope of the hill, upon which the town is built, and which was formerly one continued declivity of barren sand, is now converted, by modern improvements, into beautiful Hanging Gardens, reaching, by a gradual descent, from the dwelling houses above to the bottom of the hill, and extending nearly from one end of the town to the other. These gardens are most of them richly planted with various kinds of trees, intermingled with shrubs; and the "white alcoves, summer-houses, rustic seats, &c. with which they are interspersed, agreeably diversify the scene, as they peep from the dark foliage which surrounds them, and give to the whole an appearance entirely unique. These sloping gardens are not only delightful to those who possess them, but they also constitute one of the greatest ornaments of the town, and are justly considered as objects of curiosity and admiration.

Here flows a tide that circles Britain's isle,
More rich than fable tells of Egypt's Nile;
The sails of commerce here are oft unfurl'd,
And navies ride that awe the trembling world.

O'er yonder western landscape's striking scene,
Mark how kind nature throws her softest green;
How woods and fields a varied prospect make,
And join the margin of th' expansive Lake.†
Objects so fair, which ev'ry eye must please,
The piercing orb of taste with rapture sees;
Admires the bounties of the
generous maid,
While Paradise revives in Blund'ston's Glade.*

+ Although Lowestoft cannot be said to abound in luxuriance of landscape, yet the eye of the stranger must be gratified by beholding an extensive and beautiful prospect towards the west; where the Lake of Lothingland, majestically winding, forms a prominent feature in the scene.

The admirers of nature can scarcely enjoy a more delightful prospect than that which is beheld from the church-yard, where sea, lake, and land unite to embellish the picture. The Lake, which approaches very near to the sea, affords glimpses of its transparent waves, with the small vessels gliding over their glassy surface, exhibiting a pleasing emblem of tranquillity, when contrasted with the turbulence of its restless neighbour, with ships of ten-fold magnitude dashing on her bosom.

* Blundeston is about three miles distant from Lowestoft, and was formerly the residence of the Rev. Norton Nicholls. It is a beautiful spot: the wood, water, and decorations are tastefully disposed, and worthy the admiration, which has been so deservedly bestowed upon them. Mr. Mathias, in an elegant and well-written Memoir of his friend Mr. Nicholls, which is appended to his "Observations on the writings, and on the character of Mr. Gray, &c. 1815," 12mo. thus describes this charming retreat. Upon the best motives Mr. Nicholls retired from London, and resided constantly with his mother in the cheerless depth, and then uncultivated solitude, of his Suffolk Livings, where he passed his time in continued study, and in the exercise of his professional duties. But I must observe that, since his residence there, the country and the neighbourhood have assumed another aspect. As there was no rectorial house upon either of his livings, he fixed upon a place which I could wish that future travellers might visit, and speak of it, as we do of the Leasowes, I mean his Villa at Blundeston, which (if barbarous taste should not improve it, or some more barbarous land surveyor level with the soil its beauties and its glories,) will remain as one of the most finished scenes of cultivated sylvan delight, which this island can offer to our view. It was his own and his appropriate work; for scarcely a trace of its uncouth original features can be found or pointed out to the visitant. But to the eye of a mind, like Mr. Nicholls's, the possible excellencies of a place,