Epilogue Intended To Have Been Spoken For 'she Stoops To Conquer' Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

Rhyme Scheme: ABAC AD AE AE AF AG AG HII AIIJK AC AL AL ALAACCFD ACC HII MNONOPQ AKKMMFDAA ALLMM IRRRRII ISSP C D SS IMIIIIHHHS SII SMM SS SS SCCSSS

'Enter' MRS BULKLEYA
'who curtsies very low as beginning to speakB
Then enter' MISS CATLEYA
'who stands full before her and curtsies to the audience'C
-
MRS BULKELEYA
HOLD Ma'am your pardon What's your business hereD
-
MISS CATLEYA
The EpilogueE
-
MRS BULKLEYA
The EpilogueE
-
MISS CATLEYA
Yes the Epilogue my dearF
-
MRS BULKLEYA
Sure you mistake Ma'am The Epilogue 'I' bring itG
-
MISS CATLEYA
Excuse me Ma'am The Author bid 'me' sing itG
-
'Recitative'H
Ye beaux and belles that form this splendid ringI
Suspend your conversation while I singI
-
MRS BULKLEYA
Why sure the girl's beside herself an Epilogue of singingI
A hopeful end indeed to such a blest beginningI
Besides a singer in a comic setJ
Excuse me Ma'am I know the etiquetteK
-
MISS CATLEYA
What if we leave it to the HouseC
-
MRS BULKLEYA
The House AgreedL
-
MISS CATLEYA
AgreedL
-
MRS BULKLEYA
And she whose party's largest shall proceedL
And first I hope you'll readily agreeA
I've all the critics and the wits for meA
They I am sure will answer my commandsC
Ye candid judging few hold up your handsC
What no return I find too late I fearF
That modern judges seldom enter hereD
-
MISS CATLEYA
I'm for a different set Old men whose trade isC
Still to gallant and dangle with the ladiesC
-
'Recitative'H
Who mump their passion and who grimly smilingI
Still thus address the fair with voice beguilingI
-
'Air Cotillon'M
Turn my fairest turn if everN
Strephon caught thy ravish'd eyeO
Pity take on your swain so cleverN
Who without your aid must dieO
Yes I shall die hu hu hu huP
Yes I must die ho ho ho ho 'Da capo'Q
-
MRS BULKLEYA
Let all the old pay homage to your meritK
Give me the young the gay the men of spiritK
Ye travell'd tribe ye macaroni trainM
Of French friseurs and nosegays justly vainM
Who take a trip to Paris once a yearF
To dress and look like awkward Frenchmen hereD
Lend me your hands Oh fatal news to tellA
Their hands are only lent to the HeinelA
-
MISS CATLEYA
Ay take your travellers travellers indeedL
Give me my bonny Scot that travels from the TweedL
Where are the chiels Ah Ah I well discernM
The smiling looks of each bewitching bairnM
-
'Air A bonny young lad is my Jockey'I
I'll sing to amuse you by night and by dayR
And be unco merry when you are but gayR
When you with your bagpipes are ready to playR
My voice shall be ready to carol awayR
With Sandy and Sawney and JockeyI
With Sawney and Jarvie and JockeyI
-
MRS BULKLEYI
Ye gamesters who so eager in pursuitS
Make but of all your fortune one 'va toute'S
Ye jockey tribe whose stock of words are fewP
'I hold the odds Done done with you with you '-
Ye barristers so fluent with grimaceC
'My Lord your Lordship misconceives the case '-
Doctors who cough and answer every misfortunerD
'I wish I'd been called in a little sooner '-
Assist my cause with hands and voices heartyS
Come end the contest here and aid my partyS
-
MISS CATLEYI
'Air Ballinamony'M
Ye brave Irish lads hark away to the crackI
Assist me I pray in this woful attackI
For sure I don't wrong you you seldom are slackI
When the ladies are calling to blush and hang backI
For you're always polite and attentiveH
Still to amuse us inventiveH
And death is your only preventiveH
Your hands and your voices for meS
-
MRS BULKLEYS
Well Madam what if after all this sparringI
We both agree like friends to end our jarringI
-
MISS CATLEYS
And that our friendship may remain unbrokenM
What if we leave the Epilogue unspokenM
-
MRS BULKLEYS
AgreedS
-
-
MISS CATLEYS
AgreedS
-
MRS BULKLEYS
And now with late repentanceC
Un epilogued the Poet waits his sentenceC
Condemn the stubborn fool who can't submitS
To thrive by flattery though he starves by witS
'Exeunt'S

Oliver Goldsmith



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