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And scarce a legacy can bribe to hear;
The watchful guests still bint the last offence;
The daughter's petulance, the son's expense,
Improve his heady rage with treach'rous skill,
And mould his passions till they make his will.
Unnumber'd maladies his joints invade,
Lay siege to life, and pre-s the dire blockade;
But unextinguish'd av'rice still remains,
And dreaded losses aggravate his pains;
He turns, with anxious heart and crippled hands,
His bonds of debt, and mortgages of lands
Or views his coffers with suspicious eyes,
Unlocks his gold, and counts it till he dies.

;

But grant, the virtues of a temp'rate prime
Bless with an age exempt from scorn or crime;
An age that melts with unperceiv'd decay,
And glides in modest innocence away;
Whose peaceful day benevolence endears,
Whose night congratulating conscience cheers;
The gen'ral fav'rite as the gen'ral friend:
Such age there is, and who shall wish its end?

Yet ev'n on this her load Misfortune flings,
To press the weary minutes' flagging wings;
New sorrow rises as the day returns,
A sister sickens, or a daughter mourns.
Now kindred Merit fills the sable bier,
Now lacerated Friendship claims a tear;
Year chases year, decay pursues decay,
Still drops some joy from with'ring life away;
New forms arise, aud diff'rent views engage,
Superfluous lags the vet'ran on the stage,
Till pitying Nature signs the last release,
And bids afflicted worth retire to peace.

But few there are whom hours like these await,
Who set unclouded in the gulphs of Fate.
From Lydia's monarch should the search de-
By Solon caution'd to regard his end, [scend,
In life's last scene what prodigies surprize,
Fears of the brave, and follies of the wise!
From Marlb'rough's eyes the streams of dotage
flow,

And Swift expires a driv'ler and a show.

The teeming mother, anxious for her race, Begs for each birth the fortune of a face; Yet Vane could tell what ills from beauty spring; And Sedley curs'd the form that pleas'd a king. Ye nymphs of rosy lips and radiant eyes, Whom pleasure keeps too busy to be wise; Whom joys with soft varieties invite, By day the frolic, and the dance by night; Who frown with vanity, who smile with art, And ask the latest fashion of the heart;

14 Ver. 289-345.

VOL. XVI.

What care, what rules, your heedless charms shall save,

[slave? Each nymph your rival, and each youth your Against your fame with fondness hate combines, The rival batters, and the lover mines. With distant voice neglected Virtue calls, Less heard and less, the faint remonstrance falls; Tir'd with contempt, she quits the slipp'ry reign, And Pride and Prudence take her seat in vain. In crowd at once, where none the pass defend, The harmless freedom, and the private friend. The guardians yield, by force superior ply'd: To Int'rest, Frudence; and to Flatt'ry, Pride. Here Beauty falls betray'd, despis'd, distress'd, And hissing Infamy proclaims the rest.

15 Where then shall Hope and Fear their objects find?

Must dull suspence corrupt the stagnant mind?
Must helpless man, in ignorance sedate,
Roll darkling down the torrent of his fate?
Must no dislike alarm, no wishes rise,
No cries invoke the mercies of the skies?
Inquirer, cease; petitions yet remain
Which Heav'n may hear, nor decu religion vain.
Still raise for good the supplicating voice,
But leave to Heav'n the measure and the choice.
Safe in his pow'r, whose eyes discern afar
The secret ambush of a specious pray'r;
Implore his aid, in his decisions rest,
Secure, whate'er he gives, he gives the best.
Yet, when the sense of sacred presence fires,
And strong devotion to the skies aspires,
Pour forth thy fervours for a healthful mind,
Obedient passions, and a will resign'd;
For love, which scarce collective man can fill ;
For patience, sov'reign o'er transmuted ill;
For faith, that, panting for a happier seat,
Counts death kind Nature's signal of retreat:
These goods for man the laws of Heav'n ordain,
These goods he grants, who grants the pow'r to

gain;

With these celestial Wisdom calms the mind, And makes the happiness she does not find.

PROLOGUE,

SPOKEN BY MR. GARRICK,

AT THE OPENING OF THE THEATRE ROYAL, DRURY
LANE, 1747.

WHEN Learning's triumph o'er her barb'rous
foes
[rose;
First rear'd the stage, immortal Shakspeare
Each change of many-colour'd life he drew,
Exhausted worlds, and then imagin'd new :
Existence saw him spurn her bounded reign,
And panting Time toil'd after him in vain.
His pow'rful strokes presiding Truth impress'd,
And unresisted Passion storm'd the breast.

Then Jonson came, instructed from the

school,

To please in method, and invent by rule; His studious patience and laborious art, By regular approach assail'd the heart:

15 Ver. 346-366. PP

Cold Approbation gave the ling'ring bays,
For those, who durst not censure, scarce could
praise.

A mortal born, be met the gen'ral doom,
But left, like Egypt's kings, a lasting tomb.

The wits of Charles found easier ways to fame, Nor wish'd for Jonson's art, or Shakspeare's flame.

Themselves they studied, as they felt they writ;
Intrigue was plot, obscenity was wit.
Vice always found a sympathetic friend;
They pleas'd their age, and did not aim to mend.
Yet bards like these aspir'd to lasting praise,
And proudly hop'd to pimp in future days.
Their cause was gen'ral, their supports were
strong,
[long:
Their slaves were willing, and their reign was
Till Shame regain'd the post that Sense betray'd
And Virtue call'd Oblivion to her aid.

Then, crush'd by rules, and weaken'd as re-
fin'd,

For years the pow'r of Tragedy declin'd;
From bard to bard the frigid caution crept,
Till Declamation roar'd whilst Passion slept;
Yet still did Virtue deign the stage to tread,
Philosophy remain'd, though Nature fled.
But forc'd, at length, her antient reign to quit,
She saw great Faustus lay the ghost of Wit;
Exulting Folly hail'd the joyful day,
And Pantomime and Song confirm'd her sway.

But who the coming changes can presage,
And mark the future periods of the stage?
Perhaps, if skill could distant times explore,
New Behns, new Durfeys, yet remain in store;
Perhaps where Lear has rav'd, and Hamlet dy'd,
On flying cars new sorcerers may ride:
Perhaps (for who can guess th' effects of chance?)
Here Hunt may box, or Mahomet' may dance.

Hard is his lot that, here by Fortune plac'd, Must watch the wild vicissitudes of taste; With ev'ry meteor of caprice must play, And chase the new-blown bubbles of the day. Ah! let not Censure term our fate our choice, The stage but echoes back the public voice; The drama's laws, the drama's patrons give, For we that live to please, must please to live. Then prompt no more the follies you decry, As tyrants doom their tools of guilt to die; 'Tis yours, this night, to bid the reign com

mence

Of rescued Nature and reviving Sense;

From grov'ling business and superfluous care,
Ye sous of Avarice, a moment spare!
Vot'ries of Fame, and worshippers of Power,
Dismiss the pleasing phantoms for an hour!
Our daring bard, with spirit unconfin'd,
Spreads wide the mighty moral for mankind.
Learn here how Heav'n supports the virtuous
mind,
[sign'd,
Daring, though calm; and vig'rous, though re-
Learn here, what anguish racks the guilty breast,
In pow'r dependent, in success deprest.
Learn here that peace from innocence must flow;
All else is empty sound and idle show.

If truths like these with pleasing language join:

Ennobled, yet unchang'd, if Nature shine ;
If no wild draught depart from reason's rules,
Nor gods his heroes, nor his lovers fools:
Intriguing wits! his artless plot forgive;
And spare him, beauties! though his lovers live.
Be this at least his praise, be this his pride;
To force applause no modern arts are try❜d.
Should partial cat-calls all his hopes confound,
He bids no trumpet quell the fatal sound.
Should welcome sleep relieve the weary wit,
He rolls no thunders o'er the drowsy pit.
No snares to captivate the judgment spreads,
Nor bribes your eyes to prejudice your heads.
Unmov'd though witlings sneer and rivals rail;
Studious to please, yet not asham'd to fail.
He scorns the meek address, the suppliant strain,
With merit needless, and without it vain.
In reason, nature, truth, he dares to trust :
Ye fops, be silent: and ye wits, be just!

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To chase the charms of sound, the pomp of show, IRENE,
For useful mirth and salutary woe;

Bid scenic Virtue form the rising age,

And Truth diffuse her radiance from the stage.

IRENE;

A TRAGEDY.

PROLOGUE.

WOMEN.

Greek ladies,

S Mrs. Cibber. Mrs.Pritchard.

Attendants on Irene.

ACT I.

SCENE I.

DEMETRIUS AND LEONTIUS, in Turkish habits.

LEONTIUS.

AND is it thus Demetrius meets his friend, Hid in the mean disguise of Turkish robes,

Ye glitt'ring train, whom lace and velvet bless, With servile secrecy to lurk in shades,
Suspend the soft solicitudes of dress!

And vent our suff'rings in clandestine groans?

DEMETRIUS.

1 Hunt, a famous boxer on the stage; Mahomet, a rope-dancer, who had exhibited at Co-Till breathless fury rested from destruction, vent-Garden theatre the winter before, said to These groans were fatal, these disguises vain; be a Turk. But now our Turkish conquerors have quench'd

Their rage, and pall'd their appetite of murder; | Each night, protected by the friendly darkness,
No more the glutted sabre thirsts for blood,
And weary cruelty remits her tortures.

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A thousand horrid prodigies foretold it.
A feeble government, eluded laws,
A factious populace, luxurious nobles,
And all the maladies of sinking states.
When public villany, too strong for justice,
Shows his bold front, the harbinger of ruin,
Can brave Leontius call for airy wonders,
Which cheats interpret, and which fools regard?
When some neglected fabric nods beneath
The weight of years, and totters to the tempest,
Must Heav'n dispatch the messengers of light,
Or wake the dead, to warn us of its fall?

LEONTIUS.

Well might the weakness of our empire sink Before such foes of more than human force; Some pow'r invisible, from Heav'n or Hell, Conducts their armies, and asserts their cause.

DEMETRIUS.

And yet, my friend, what miracles were wrought Beyond the pow'r of constancy and courage? Did unresisted lightning aid their cannon? Did roaring whirlwinds sweep us from the ramparts? [Leontius, 'Twas vice that shook our nerves, 'twas vice, That froze our veins, and wither'd all our pow'rs.

LEONTIUS.

Whate'er our crimes, our woes demand compassion.

Quitting my close retreat, I range the city,
And, weeping, kiss the venerable ruins:
With silent pangs I view the tow'ring domes,
Sacred to pray'r; and wander through the
⚫ streets,

Where commerce lavish'd unexhausted plenty,
And jollity maintain'd eternal revels.—

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And hop'd to share thy counsels,not thy sorrows:
While thus we mourn the fortune of Aspasia,
To what are we reserv'd?

DEMETRIUS.

To what I know not: But hope, yet hope, to happiness and honour; If happiness can be without Aspasia.

LEONTIUS.

But whence this new-sprung hope?

DEMETRIUS.

From Cali Bassa,

The chief, whose wisdom guides the Turkish counsels.

He, tir'd of slavery, though the highest slave,
Projects at once our freedom and his own;
And bids us thus disguis'd await him here.

LEONTIUS.

Can he restore the state he could not save?
In vain, when Turkey's troops assail'd our walls,
His kind intelligence betray'd their measures;
Their arms prevail'd, though Cali was our friend.

DEMETRIUS.

When the tenth sun had set upon our sorrows,
At midnight's private hour, a voice unknown
Sounds in my sleeping, ear, "Awake, Demetrius,
Awake, and follow me to better fortunes."
Surpriz'd I start, and bless the happy dream;
Then, rousing, know the fiery chief Abdalla,
Whose quick impatience seiz'd my doubtful hand,
And led me to the shore where Cali stood,
Pensive and list'ning to the beating surge.
There, in soft hints and in ambiguous phrase,
With all the diffidence of long experience,
That oft' had practis'd fraud, and oft' detected,
The vet'ran courtier half reveal'd his project.
By his command, equipp'd for speedy flight,
Deep in a winding creek a galley lies,
Mann'd with the bravest of our fellow-captives,
Selected by my care, a hardy band,
That long to hail thee chief.

LEONTIUS.

But what avails So small a force? or why should Cali fly? Or how can Cali's flight restore our country?

DEMETRIUS.

Reserve these questions for a safer hour; Or hear himself, for see the Bassa comes.

SCENE II.

DEMETRIUS, LEONTIUS, CALI BASSA.
CALI.

Now summon all thy soul, illustrious Christian!
Awake each faculty that sleeps within thee,
The courtier's policy, the sage's firmness,
The warrior's ardour, and the patriot's zeal:
If, chasing past events with vain pursuit,
Or wand'ring in the wilds of future being,
A single thought now rove, recall it home.
But can thy friend sustain the glorious cause,
The cause of liberty, the cause of nations?

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Sure, not unconscious of the mighty blessing,
Her grateful sons shine bright with every virtue;
Untainted with the lust of innovation,
Sure, all unite to hold her league of rule
Unbroken as the sacred chain of Nature,
That links the jarring elements in peace.

LEONTIUS.

But say, great bassa, why the sultan's anger, Burning in vain, delays the stroke of death?

CALI.

Young, and unsettled in his father's kingdoms,
Fierce as he was, he dreaded to destroy
The empire's darling and the soldier's boast;
But now confirm'd, and swelling with his con-

quests,

Secure he tramples my declining fame,

CALI.

The sultan gaz'd, he wonder'd, and he lov'd:
In passion lost, he bade the conquering fair
Renounce her faith, and be the queen of Turkey.
The pious maid, with modest indignation,
Threw back the glittering bribe.

DEMETRIUS.

Celestial goodness!

It must, it must be she; her name?

CALI.

Aspasia.

DEMETRIUS.

What hopes, what terrours, rush upon my soul!
O lead me quickly to the scene of fate;

Frowns unrestrain'd, and dooms me with his Break through the politician's tedious forms:

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That vessel, if observ'd, alarms the court,

And gives a thousand fatal questions birth :

Aspasia calls me; let me fly to save her.

LEONTIUS.

Did Mahomet reproach or praise her virtue?

CALI.

His offers oft repeated, still refus'd,

At length rekindled his accustomed fury,

And chang'd the endearing smile and am'rous

whisper

To threats of torture, death, and violation.

DEMETRIUS.

These tedious narratives of frozen age
Distract my soul; dispatch thy lingering tale;
Say, did a voice from Heav'n restrain the ty

rant?

Did interposing angels guard her from him?

CALI.

Just in the moment of impending fate,
Another plund'rer, brought the bright Irene:
Of equal beauty, but of softer mien,
Fear in her eye, submission on her tongue,
Her mournful charms attracted his regards,
Disarm'd his rage, and in repeated visits

Why stor❜d for flight? and why prepar'd by Gain'd all his heart! at length his eager love

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