Chapter XXII: Epilogue: Intended for

‘SHE STOOPS TO CONQUER.’

This epilogue was first printed at pp. 82–6, vol. ii, of the _Miscellaneous
Works of_ 1801. Bolton Corney says it had been given to Percy by
Goldsmith. It is evidently the ‘quarrelling Epilogue’ referred to in the
following letter from Goldsmith to Cradock (_Miscellaneous Memoirs_,
1826, i. 225–6):—

‘MY DEAR SIR,
The Play [_She
Stoops to Conquer_] has met with a success much beyond your
expectations or mine. I thank you sincerely for your Epilogue, which,
however could not be used, but with your permission, shall be printed.*
The story in short is this; Murphy sent me rather the outline of an
Epilogue than an Epilogue, which was to be sung by Mrs. Catley, and which
she approved. Mrs. Bulkley hearing this, insisted on throwing up her part,
unless according to the custom of the theatre, she were permitted to speak
the Epilogue. In this embarrassment I thought of making a quarrelling
Epilogue between Catley and her, debating who should speak the Epilogue,
but then Mrs. Catley refused, after I had taken the trouble of drawing it
out. I was then at a loss indeed; an Epilogue was to be made, and for none
but Mrs. Bulkley. I made one, and Colman thought it too bad to be spoken;
I was obliged therefore to try a fourth time, and I made a very mawkish
thing, as you’ll shortly see. Such is the history of my Stage adventures,
and which I have at last done with. I cannot help saying that I am very
sick of the
stage; and though I believe I shall get three tolerable benefits, yet I
shall upon the whole be a loser, even in a pecuniary light; my ease and
comfort I certainly lost while it was in agitation.

I am, my dear Cradock,
your obliged, and obedient servant,

OLIVER GOLDSMITH.

P.S.—Present my most humble respects to Mrs. Cradock.’

* It is so printed with the note—‘This came too late to be Spoken.’

According to Prior (_Miscellaneous Works_, 1837, iv. 154),
Goldsmith’s friend, Dr. Farr, had a copy of this epilogue which still,
when Prior wrote, remained in that gentleman’s family.

Who mump their passion, i.e. grimace their
passion.

ye macaroni train. The Macaronies were the
foplings, fribbles, or beaux of Goldsmith’s day. Walpole refers to them as
early as 1764; but their flourishing time was 1770–3, when the
print-shops, and especially Matthew Darly’s in the Strand, No. 39, swarmed
with satirical designs of which they were the subject. Selwyn, March—many
well-known names—are found in their ranks. Richard Cosway figured as
‘The Macaroni Painter’; Angelica Kauffmann as ‘The Paintress of
Maccaroni’s’; Thrale as ‘The Southwark Macaroni.’ Another caricature (‘The
Fluttering Macaroni’) contains a portrait of Miss Catley, the singing
actress of the present epilogue; while Charles Horneck, the brother of
‘The Jessamy Bride’ (see p. 251, l. 14) is twice satirized as ‘The Martial
Macaroni’ and ‘The Military Macaroni.’ The name, as may be guessed, comes
from the Italian dish first made fashionable by the ‘Macaroni Club,’ being
afterwards applied by extension to ‘the younger and gayer part of our
nobility and gentry, who, at the same time that they gave in to the
luxuries of eating, went equally into the extravagancies of dress.’ (_Macaroni
and Theatrical Magazine_, Oct. 1772.) Cf. Sir Benjamin Backbite’s
later epigram in _The School for Scandal_, 1777, Act ii, Sc. 2:—

Sure never was seen two such beautiful ponies;

Other horses are clowns, but these _macaronies_:

To give them this title I’m sure can’t be wrong,

Their legs are so slim and their tails are so long.

Their hands are only lent to the Heinel. See note
to l. 28, p. 85.