PROLOGUE

ΤΟ

PHÆDRA AND HIPPOLYTUS 1.

SPOKEN BY MR. WILKS.

LONG has a race of heroes fill'd the stage,
That rant by note, and through the gamut rage:
In songs and airs express their martial fire,
Combat in trills, and in a fugue expire;
While lull'd by sound, and undisturb'd by wit,
Calm and serene you indolently sit:

And from the dull fatigue of thinking free,
Hear the facetious fiddles' repartee:

Our homespun authors must forsake the field,
And Shakspeare to the soft Scarlatti yield.

To your new taste the poet of this day,
Was by a friend advis'd to form his play;
Had Valentini, musically coy,

Shun'd Phædra's arms, and scorn'd the proffer'd joy,

It had not mov'd your wonder to have seen

An eunuch fly from an enamour'd queen :

A tragedy written by Mr. Edmund Smith.

How would it please, should she in English speak,
And could Hippolytus reply in Greek?

But he, a stranger to your modish way,
By your old rules must stand or fall to-day.
And hopes you will your foreign taste command,
To bear, for once, with what you understand.

Augustus had a design to rebuild Troy, and make

the metropolis of the Roman empire, having closeted several senators on the project: Horace is supposed to have written the following ode on this occasion.

THE man resolv'd and steady to his trust,
Inflexible to ill, and obstinately just,

May the rude rabble's insolence despise,
Their senseless clamours and tumultuous cries;
The tyrant's fierceness he beguiles,

And the stern brow, and the harsh voice defies,
And with superior greatness smiles.

Not the rough whirlwind, that deforms

Adria's black gulf, and vexes it with storms,
The stubborn virtue of his soul can move;
Nor the red arm of angry Jove,

That flings the thunder from the sky,

And gives it rage to roar, and strength to fly.

Should the whole frame of nature round him break,

In ruin and confusion hurl'd,

He unconcern'd, would hear the mighty crack,

And stand secure amidst a falling world.

Such were the godlike arts that led
Bright Pollux to the blest abodes:
Such did for great Alcides plead,
And gain'd a place among the gods;
Where now Augustus, mix'd with heroes, lies,
And to his lips the nectar bowl applies:
His ruddy lips the purple tincture show,
And with immortal stains divinely glow.

By arts like these did young Lyæus rise:
His tigers drew him to the skies,

Wild from the desert and unbroke:

In vain they foam'd, in vain they star'd,
In vain their eyes with fury glar'd;

He tam'd them to the lash, and bent them to the yoke.
Such were the paths that Rome's great founder trod,
When in a whirlwind snatch'd on high,

He shook off dull mortality,

And lost the monarch in the god.

Bright Juno then her awful silence broke.

And thus th' assembled deities bespoke.

Troy, says the goddess, perjur'd Troy has felt
The dire effects of her proud tyrant's guilt;
The tow'ring pile, and soft abodes,
Wall'd by the hand of servile gods,
Now spreads its ruins all around,
And lies inglorious on the ground.
An umpire, partial and unjust,
And a lewd woman's impious lust,

Lay heavy on her head, and sunk her to the dust.
Since false Laomedon's tyrannic sway,

That durst defraud th' immortals of their pay,

Her guardian gods renounc'd their patronage,
Nor would the fierce invading foe repel;
To my resentment, and Minerva's rage,
The guilty king and the whole people fell.

And now the long-protracted wars are o'er,

The soft adult'rer shines no more:

No more does Hector's force the Trojans shield,

That drove whole armies back, and singly clear'd the field.
My vengeance sated, I at length resign

To Mars his offspring of the Trojan line:
Advanc'd to godhead let him rise,
And take his station in the skies;
There entertain his ravish'd sight
With scenes of glory, fields of light;
Quaff with the gods immortal wine,
And see adoring nations crowd his shrine:
The thin remains of Troy's afflicted host,
In distant realms may seats unenvied find,
And flourish on a foreign coast;

But far be Rome from Troy disjoin'd,

Remov'd by seas, from the disastrous shore,

May endless billows rise between, and storms unnumber'd

roar.

Still let the curs'd detested place,

Where Priam lies, and Priam's faithless race,
Be cover'd o'er with weeds, and hid in grass.
There let the wanton flocks unguarded stray;
Or, while the lonely shepherd sings,

Amidst the mighty ruins play,

And frisk upon the tombs of kings.

May tigers there, and all the savage kind, Sad solitary haunts, and silent deserts find;

VOL. I.

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