School For Scandal | Page 4

standpoint.
The student of English drama will prefer Sheridan's own text to
editorial emendations, however clever or effective for dramatic ends.
THE SCHOOL FOR SCANDAL
A COMEDY
A PORTRAIT<1>
ADDRESSED TO MRS. CREWE,
WITH THE COMEDY OF
THE SCHOOL FOR SCANDAL
BY R. B. SHERIDAN, ESQ.
Tell me, ye prim adepts in Scandal's school,
Who rail by precept, and

detract by rule,
Lives there no character, so tried, so known,
So
deck'd with grace, and so unlike your own,
That even you assist her
fame to raise,
Approve by envy, and by silence praise!--
Attend!--a
model shall attract your view--
Daughters of calumny, I summon you!

You shall decide if this a portrait prove,
Or fond creation of the
Muse and Love.--
Attend, ye virgin critics, shrewd and sage,
Ye
matron censors of this childish age,
Whose peering eye and wrinkled
front declare
A fixt antipathy to young and fair;
By cunning,
cautious; or by nature, cold,
In maiden madness, virulently bold!--

Attend! ye skilled to coin the precious tale,
Creating proof, where
innuendos fail!
Whose practised memories, cruelly exact,
Omit no
circumstance, except the fact!--
Attend, all ye who boast,--or old or
young,--
The living libel of a slanderous tongue!
So shall my theme
as far contrasted be,
As saints by fiends, or hymns by calumny.

Come, gentle Amoret (for 'neath that name,
In worthier verse is sung
thy beauty's fame);
Come--for but thee who seeks the Muse? and
while
Celestial blushes check thy conscious smile,
With timid grace,
and hesitating eye,
The perfect model, which I boast, supply:--
Vain
Muse! couldst thou the humblest sketch create
Of her, or slightest
charm couldst imitate--
Could thy blest strain in kindred colours trace

The faintest wonder of her form and face--
Poets would study the
immortal line,
And REYNOLDS own HIS art subdued by thine;

That art, which well might added lustre give
To Nature's best and
Heaven's superlative:
On GRANBY'S cheek might bid new glories
rise,
Or point a purer beam from DEVON'S eyes!
Hard is the task
to shape that beauty's praise,
Whose judgment scorns the homage
flattery pays!
But praising Amoret we cannot err,
No tongue
o'ervalues Heaven, or flatters her!
Yet she, by Fate's
perverseness--she alone
Would doubt our truth, nor deem such praise
her own!
Adorning Fashion, unadorn'd by dress,
Simple from taste,
and not from carelessness;
Discreet in gesture, in deportment mild,

Not stiff with prudence, nor uncouthly wild:
No state has AMORET!
no studied mien;
She frowns no GODDESS, and she moves no

QUEEN.
The softer charm that in her manner lies
Is framed to
captivate, yet not surprise;
It justly suits th' expression of her face,--

'Tis less than dignity, and more than grace!
On her pure cheek the
native hue is such,
That, form'd by Heav'n to be admired so much,

The hand divine, with a less partial care,
Might well have fix'd a
fainter crimson there,
And bade the gentle inmate of her breast,--

Inshrined Modesty!--supply the rest.
But who the peril of her lips
shall paint?
Strip them of smiles--still, still all words are faint!
But
moving Love himself appears to teach
Their action, though denied to
rule her speech;
And thou who seest her speak and dost not hear,

Mourn not her distant accents 'scape thine ear;
Viewing those lips,
thou still may'st make pretence
To judge of what she says, and swear
'tis sense:
Cloth'd with such grace, with such expression fraught,

They move in meaning, and they pause in thought!
But dost thou
farther watch, with charm'd surprise,
The mild irresolution of her
eyes,
Curious to mark how frequent they repose,
In brief eclipse
and momentary close--
Ah! seest thou not an ambush'd Cupid there,

Too tim'rous of his charge, with jealous care
Veils and unveils
those beams of heav'nly light,
Too full, too fatal else, for mortal sight?

Nor yet, such pleasing vengeance fond to meet,
In pard'ning
dimples hope a safe retreat.
What though her peaceful breast should
ne'er allow
Subduing frowns to arm her altered brow,
By Love, I
swear, and by his gentle wiles,
More fatal still the mercy of her
smiles!
Thus lovely, thus adorn'd, possessing all
Of bright or fair
that can to woman fall,
The height of vanity might well be thought

Prerogative in her, and Nature's fault.
Yet gentle AMORET, in mind
supreme
As well as charms, rejects the vainer theme;
And, half
mistrustful of her beauty's store,
She barbs with wit those darts too
keen before:--
Read in all knowledge that her sex should reach,

Though GREVILLE, or the MUSE, should deign to teach,
Fond to
improve, nor tim'rous to discern
How far it is a woman's grace to
learn;
In MILLAR'S dialect she would not prove
Apollo's priestess,
but Apollo's love,
Graced by those signs which truth delights to own,


The timid blush, and mild submitted tone:
Whate'er she says,
though sense appear throughout,
Displays the tender hue of female
doubt;
Deck'd with that charm, how lovely wit appears,
How
graceful SCIENCE, when that robe she wears!
Such too her talents,
and her bent of mind,
As speak a sprightly heart by thought refined:

A taste for mirth, by contemplation school'd,
A turn for ridicule, by
candour ruled,
A scorn of folly, which she tries to hide;
An awe of
talent, which she owns with pride!
Peace, idle Muse! no more thy
strain prolong,
But yield a theme thy warmest praises wrong;
Just to
her merit, though thou canst not raise
Thy feeble verse,