'Tis strange, sans fable, moral, head, or tail, The Doctor's five-act-farce should so prevail! Who could have thought this nice-discerning town Would let such low absurdities go down? That in a roar, a loud, horse-laughing Pit Should take Tom Brown's stale ribaldry for wit? Tremendous critics turn good-natur'd folks, And buy at second hand Joe Miller's jokes! Go on, sly bard, the ready path pursue; Old jests forgotten are as good as new; Leave the raw witlings to detect the bite: For they, not you, "mistaken" are to "night."