Says John I've been the market round,
And searched from stall to stall,
But only some few Mackerel found,
And those not fresh at all.
Well! how's the day? says Quin again,
Will it be wet or dry?
There seems a drizzling kind of rain
Was honest John's reply.
Quin turns in bed with piteous moan,
And, not to brood o'er sorrow.
Says shut the door, and call me, John,
About this time tomorrow.
FOOTNOTES:
[I] Mossop, when he was manager of the Dublin theatre, always played Lear as it was written by Shakspeare.
[J] A hint to managers.—As the tragedy of Macbeth is the great rival of king Lear, I cannot but think, that it ought to be represented with all the advantages which its rival possesses; as, particularly, with the additional beauty of love. Nor would the change be difficult. Young Malcolm might very conveniently and very naturally fall in love with a daughter of Macbeth (to be sure it is most probable Macbeth had no daughter; but what of that? It is not too late to make him one); then the lovers might have many an affecting interview under the walls of Dunsinane Castle; and finally, Malcolm instead of Macduff, might cut off Macbeth's head, and immediately lead his daughter to the altar. How successfully would this conclude in the style of Barbarossa, Gustavus Vasa, &c. which are evidently the true models of tragedy.