ON
MR
******
ACTOR
GReat
child
of
nature
,
well
you
play
your
part
,
Yet
nature
sure
would
need
a
little
art
.
Excuse
me
******
but
I'm
forc'd
to
tell
,
In
nought
so
much
as
bawling
you
excell
.
And
where
there's
no
occasion
for
a
storm
,
Your
head's
too
giddy
,
and
your
blood
too
warm
.
For
instance
now
,
when
men
are
making
love
,
They
bill
and
coo
,
as
gentle
as
the
dove
;
But
you
,
all
foaming
like
a
savage
bear
,
Attempt
with
blust'ring
cries
to
move
the
fair
.
How
inconsistent
,
vain
unthinking
boy
,
To
rage
a
tyrant
,
while
you
look
a
toy
.
You
gain
applause
—
good
faith
,
I
grant
it
true
,
Nothing
like
roaring
charms
the
vulgar
crew
.
But
men
,
whose
judgement's
rather
more
acute
,
Astonish'd
stare
,
with
indignation
mute
.