Opening of the book
SHE STOOPS TO CONQUER
by Oliver Goldsmith
She Stoops To Conquer; Or, The Mistakes Of A Night.
A Comedy.
To Samuel Johnson, LL.D.
Dear Sir,—By inscribing this slight performance to you, I do not mean so much to compliment you as myself. It may do me some honour to inform the public, that I have lived many years in intimacy with you. It may serve the interests of mankind also to inform them, that the greatest wit may be found in a character, without impairing the most unaffected piety.
I have, particularly, reason to thank you for your partiality to this performance. The undertaking a comedy not merely sentimental was very dangerous; and Mr. Colman, who saw this piece in its various stages, always thought it so. However, I ventured to trust it to the public; and, though it was necessarily delayed till late in the season, I have every reason to be grateful.
I am, dear Sir, your most sincere friend and admirer,
OLIVER GOLDSMITH.
Contents
PROLOGUE,
By David Garrick, Esq.
Enter MR. WOODWARD, dressed in black, and holding a
handkerchief to his eyes.
Excuse me, sirs, I pray—I can’t yet speak—
I’m crying now—and have been all the week.
“’Tis not alone this mourning suit,” good masters:
“I’ve that within”—for which there are no plasters!
Pray, would you know the reason why I’m crying?
The Comic Muse, long sick, is now a-dying!
And if she goes, my tears will never stop;
For as a player, I can’t squeeze out one drop:
I am undone, that’s all—shall lose my bread—
I’d rather, but that’s nothing—lose my head.
When the sweet maid is laid upon the bier,
Shuter and I shall be chief mourners here.
To her a mawkish drab of spurious breed,
Who deals in sentimentals, will succeed!
Poor Ned and I are dead to all intents;
We can as soon speak Greek as sentiments!
Both nervous grown, to keep our spirits up.
We now and then take down a hearty cup.
Keep listening free
Readnara
