Pas. Your Criticism, Mr. Common Sense, is always Iust, and I shall implicitly observe it.
Com. And now, Mr. Pasquin, the sooner you come to your Peroration the better.
Omn. Ay, ay, the Peroration, the Peroration— come, Mount the Rostrum, Mr. Pasquin. The Rostrum, the Rostrum,— bring on the Rostrum. bring on the Rostrum!
The Rostrum is brought on.
Pasquin Ascends.
Pas. Most August, Respectable, and Tremendous Public! whose Power is as uncontrolable as the Boundless Winds, whose Iudgement infalable as opposeless Fate, Whom Party cannot Sway, Fear Intimidate, Flattery influence, nor Interest byass. You are each in the art of Government, a Lycurgus; in the Art of War, a Cæsar; In Criticism an Aristotle; In Eloquence a Tully; In Patronage a Mecenas; In Taste and Elegance, a Patronius.
Hyd. Harkée, harkée, Domine Pasquin, this Panegerick is quite out of Character, and Shews great Ignorance of the People You are Addressing. For know Sir, that the British Public has too much Dignity and Sense, either to give, or to recieve, Flattery. Your best way of gaining their Esteem, is by preserving Your Character, to the last, of a General Satyrist my Dear, not. by degenerating to a Public Sycophant.
Pas. I am afraid Sir, I have been too free of my Satyr already.
Com. Not at all Sir.— while it is General and Circumscribed by decency, it cannot be too strong for the English. For Our Wit, Sir, like Our Courage, knows no danger, Spares no Character.
Bob. Right, Right— Dem me, my dear give us Satyr, keen cutting Satyr, that’s what Pleases Us— And as to Your Panegeric, take that to Madrid or Paris.