Event Comment: Mainpiece: Not acted 
these 12 years.  [See 24 Jan. 1758.]  
Prologue written by 
Paul Whitehead.  Boxes 5s. Pit 3s. First Gallery 2s. Upper Gallery 1s.  Places for 
the Boxes to be taken of 
Mr Sarjant (only) at 
the Stage-Door.  No persons can be admitted behind scenes, nor any Money returned after curtain is drawn up.  To begin exactly at 6 o'clock.  [Customary note in succeeding bills.]  Receipps: #190 14s. (Account Book).  @
The New Occasional Prologue@As when 
the merchant to increase his store@For Dubious seas, advent'rous quits 
the shore;@Still anxious for his freight, he trembling sees@Rocks in each buoy, and tempest in each breeze@
The curling wave to mountain billow swells,@And every cloud a fancied storm fortells:@Thus rashly launch'd on this 
Theatric main,@Our All on board, each phantom gives Us pain;@
The Aatcall's note seems thunder in our ears,@And every Hiss a hurricane appears;@In Journal Squibs we lightning's blast espy,@And meteors blaze in every Critic's eye.@Spite of 
these terrors, still come hopes we view,@Hopes, ne'er can fail us--since 
they're plac'd--in you.@Your breath 
the gale, our voyage is secure,@And safe 
the venture which your smiles insure;@Though weak his skill, th' adventurer must succeed,@Where Candour takes th' endeavor for 
the deed.@For Brentford's state, 
two kings could once suffice;@In ours, behold! four kings of Brentford rise;@All smelling to one nosegay's od'rous savor@
The balmy nosegay of--
the Public favor.@From hence alone, our royal funds we draw,@Your pleasure our support, your will our law.@While such our government, we hope you'll own us;@But should we ever Tyrant prove--dethrone us.@Like Bro
ther Monarchs, who, to coax 
the nation@Began 
their reign, with some fair proclamation,@We too should talk at least--of reformation;@Declare that during our imperial sway,@No bard shall mourn his long-neglected Play;@But 
then 
the play must have some wit, some spirit,@And We allow'd sole umpires of its merit.@For those deep sages of 
the judging Pit,@Whose taste is too refin'd for modern wit,@From Rome's great 
Theatre we'll cull 
the piece,@And plant on Britain's stage 
the flow'rs of Greece.@If some 
there are, our British Bards can please,@Who taste 
the ancient wit of ancient days,@Be our's to save, from Time's devouring womb,@
Their works, and snatch 
their laurels from 
the tomb.@For you, ye Fair, who sprightlier scenes may chuse,@Where Music decks in all her airs 
the Muse,@Gay Opera shall all its charms dispense,@Yet boast no tuneful triumph over sense;@
The nobler Bard shall still assert his right,@Nor Handel rob a Shakespear of his night,@To greet 
the mortal brethren of our skies [upper galleries]@Here all 
the Gods of Pantomime shall rise:@Yet midst 
the pomp and magic of machines,@Some plot may mark 
the meaning of our scenes;@Scenes which were held, in good King Rich's days,@By sages, no bad epilogues to plays.@If terms like 
these your suffrage can engage,@To fix our mimic empire of 
the stage;@Confirm our title in your fair opinions,@And crowd each night to people our dominions.@--(
Poems and Miscelaneous Compositions, Ed. 
Capt. Edward Thompson, 1777)  
Covent Garden opened with 
the Rehearsal with alterations.  I was in 
the Pit.  
Powell, from 
Drury Lane, one of 
the new managers who have bought 
the patent from 
Rich's heirs, spoke an occasional 
Prologue.  
Shuter did 
Bayes pretty much to my liking, adding many crochets of his own....  Entertainment 
The Mock Doctor,...
Young Jasper pretty well by one 
Massey, being his first appearance on that stage (
Neville MS Diary)