Classic Poem

I tell you I must and will speak. How — not fit?
Pooh! prithee — I will but harangue 'em a bit.
[ Comes forward .]
Excuse me, good folks, I'm just popped from the pit.
I'm a critic, my masters! I sneer, splash, and vapour;
Puff party; damn poets; in short — do a paper.
My name's Johnny Grub; I'm a vendor of scandal,
My pen like an auctioneer's hammer I handle;
Knocking down reputations by one inch of candle!
I've heard out the play; but I need not have come.
I'll tell you a secret, my masters, but mum!
Though rammed in amongst you, to praise or to mock it,
I brought my critique, cut and dry, in my pocket.
We great paper editors, strange it appears,
Can often, believe me, dispense with our ears .
The author — like all other authors — well-knowing
That we are the people to set him a-going,
Has begged me just now, in a flattering tone,
To publish a friendly critique of his own.
Every good has its evil. We don't pay a souse ,
Neither we nor our friends, to come into the house;
But then 'tis expected because we are free ,
We are bound to praise all the damned nonsense we see.
Hence comes it the houses, their emptiness scorning,
At low ebb at night overflow in the morning!
Hence audiences seated at ease at the play
Are squeezed to a mummy, poor devils, next day!
Even actors themselves will extort something from us,
And the vilest performer's an actor of promise .
While self-praising authors write volumes on volumes,
And puffs every morning, like smoke, rise in columns!
Our bard of to-night — I had tickled him sweetly! —
Foists his puff upon me — damn it, mine was so neatly
Worked up — it's a pity — an excellent pill!
Some sweet, three parts sour — shall I read it? I will!
" Last night: Little Theatre: Comedy: Name
" Ways and Means" — unproductive — plot blind, language lame!
As the author has parts, our advice in this play
Is, new model the story — but this by the way .
His dialogue too, he may trust to our print,
Is, though poor, gross and vulgar — but this is a hint .
Impartial's our motto — there's really no end
To his puns and his quibbles. We speak as a friend .
That the actors had doubts on't, we cannot help thinking,
For they all did their utmost to keep it from sinking. "
So much for ourselves . What the author advances
To support " Ways and Means, " will ne'er mend his finances.
He calls it a light summer thing, and with him.
His pun is all laugh, and his quibble all whim.
In short, his critique would so tire you to hear it,
I must publish my own — or else something that's near it.
If therefore in any one paper you see
An abuse of the play, whatsoever it be,
Wherever the poet shall find a hard rub,
That paper, depend on't, is done by John G RUB .