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TO THE SHADE OF ELLISTON
JOYOUSEST of once embodied spirits, whither at length hast
thou flown? to what genial region are we permitted to
conjecture that thou hast flitted.
Art thou sowing thy WILD OATS yet (the harvest time was still to
come with thee) upon casual sands of Avernus? or art thou enacting
Rover (as we would gladlier think) by wandering Elysian streams?
This mortal frame, while thou didst play thy brief antics amongst
us, was in truth any thing but a prison to thee, as the vain Platonist
dreams of this body to be no better than a county gaol, forsooth,
of some house of durance vile, whereof the five senses are the fetters.
Thou knewest better than to be in a hurry to cast off those
gyves; and had notice to quit, I fear, before thou wert quite ready
to abandon this fleshly tenement. It was thy Pleasure House, thy
Palace of Dainty Devices; thy Louvre, or thy White Hall.
What new mysterious lodgings dost thou tenant now? or when
may we expect thy aerial house-warming?
Tartarus we know, and we have read of the Blessed Shades;
now cannot I intelligibly fancy thee in either.
Is it too much to hazard a conjecture, that (as the schoolmen
admitted a receptacle apart for Patriarchs and un-chrisom Babes)
there may exist -- not far perchance from that storehouse of all
vanities, which Milton saw in visions -- a LIMBO somewhere for
PLAYERS? and that
Up thither like aerial vapours fly
Both all Stage things, and all that in Stage things
Built their fond hopes of glory, or lasting fame?
All the unaccomplish'd works of Authors' hands,
Abortive, monstrous, or unkindly mix'd,
Damn'd upon earth, fleet thither----
Play, Opera, Farce, with all their trumpery----
There, by the neighbouring moon (by some not improperly
supposed thy Regent Planet upon earth) mayst thou not still be
acting thy managerial pranks, great disembodied Lessee? but
Lessee still, and still a Manager.
In Green Rooms, impervious to mortal eye, the muse beholds thee
wielding posthumous empire.
Thin ghosts of Figurantes (never plump on earth) circle thee in
endlessly, and still their song is Fye on sinful Phantasy.
Magnificent were thy capriccios on this globe of earth, ROBERT
William Elliston! for as yet we know not thy new name in
heaven.
It irks me to think, that, stript of thy regalities, thou shouldst
ferry Over, a poor forked shade, in crazy Stygian wherry. Methinks
I hear the old boatman, paddling by the weedy wharf, with
raucid voice, bawling "Sculls, Sculls:" to which, with waving
hand, and majestic action, thou deignest no reply, other than in
two curt monosyllables, "No: Oars."
But the laws of Pluto's kingdom know small difference between
king, and cobbler; manager, and call-boy; and, if haply your dates
of life were conterminant, you are quietly taking your passage,
cheek by cheek (O ignoble levelling of Death) with the shade of
some recently departed candle-snuffer.
But mercy! what strippings, what tearing off of histrionic
robes, and private vanities! what denudations to the bone, before
the surly Ferryman will admit you to set a foot within his battered
liner!
Crowns, sceptres; shield, sword, and truncheon; thy own coronation
robes (for thou hast brought the whole property man's wardrobe
with thee, enough to sink a navy); the judge's ermine; the coxcomb's
wig; the snuff-box a la Foppington -- all must overboard,
he positively swears -- and that ancient mariner brooks no denial;
for, since the tiresome monodrame of the old Thracian Harper,
Charon, it is to be believed, hath shown small taste for theatricals,
Aye, now `tis done, You are just boat weight; pura et puta
anima.
But bless me, how little you look!
So shall we all look -- kings, and keysars -- stript for the last
voyage.
But the murky rogue pushes off, Adieu, pleasant, and thrice
pleasant shade! with my parting thanks for many a heavy hour of
life lightened by thy harmless extravaganzas, public or domestic,
Rhadamanthus, who tries the lighter causes below, leaving to his
two brethren the heavy calendars -- honest Rhadamanth, always
partial to players, weighing their parti-coloured existence here
upon earth, -- making account of the few foibles, that may have
shaded thy real life as we call it, (though, substantially, scarcely
less a vapour than thy idlest vagaries upon the boards of Drury,)
as but of so many echoes, natural repercussions, and results to he
expected from the assumed extravagancies of thy secondary or mock
life, nightly upon a stage -- after a lenient castigation, with rods
lighter than those Medusean ringlets, but just enough to "whip
the offending Adam out of thee" -- shall courteously dismiss thee
at the right hand gate -- the O. P. side of Hades -- that conducts to
masques, and merry-makings, in the Theatre Royal of Proserpine
PLAUDITO, ET VALETO.
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