The Works of the Late Aaron Hill ... In Four Volumes. Consisting of Letters on Various Subjects, And of Original Poems, Moral and Facetious. With An Essay on the Art of Acting |
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 | The Works of the Late Aaron Hill |  |
PROLOGUE.
Designed for a Tragedy, yet unpublished, called the Roman Revenge.
[After a short flourish of Musick, enter Fancy, rob'd in white, her hair loose and flowing.]Fancy.
Fancy, an airy form, of turn, too gay,
Acts not a part, in this distressful play:
Yet, to your aid she comes, in each new scheme,
And, thus, invokes a pow'r, that suits the theme.
Acts not a part, in this distressful play:
Yet, to your aid she comes, in each new scheme,
And, thus, invokes a pow'r, that suits the theme.
317
Genius of Liberty! this night attend;
Hear, from thy silent shades, and, rous'd, ascend.
When Cæsar bleeds, 'tis thine, to fear disgrace;
Or justify a death, that stains thy race:
Genius of Liberty! thy fame defend:
Genious of Liberty! thrice call'd, attend.
Hear, from thy silent shades, and, rous'd, ascend.
When Cæsar bleeds, 'tis thine, to fear disgrace;
Or justify a death, that stains thy race:
Genius of Liberty! thy fame defend:
Genious of Liberty! thrice call'd, attend.
[To an overture of warlike music, heard at a distance, under the stage, arises, thro' the large central opening, the Genius of Liberty, reclining on the side of a rock, as just wak'd, by the sound of the melody.]
Genius of Liberty.
From a long sleep of twice nine hundred years,
Smiling, behold! the summon'd pow'r appears!
Pleas'd, to congratulate by heav'n's command,
Lengths of new greatness, for this free-born land,
[Exit Fancy.]
Smiling, behold! the summon'd pow'r appears!
Pleas'd, to congratulate by heav'n's command,
Lengths of new greatness, for this free-born land,
In Greece, and Rome, friends to the muse's art,
The scene sustain'd my pow'r, and breath'd my heart:
'Till poorer passions, dark'ning many an age,
Erring, defac'd the state, and sham'd the stage:
Then spleen, and vengeance, mis-assum'd my name,
And mercy fell, and malice rose to fame!
The scene sustain'd my pow'r, and breath'd my heart:
'Till poorer passions, dark'ning many an age,
Erring, defac'd the state, and sham'd the stage:
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And mercy fell, and malice rose to fame!
All things were chang'd, religion was pretence,
Law was oppression; reason, violence:
Jocky'd, by sharpers, honesty distrest,
Politely laugh'd at! grew the great man's jest.
Valour was lost, in state-craft—solid sense,
In sound;—and modesty, in impudence.
Then genius sunk, and dullness ravish'd praise,
And laureat brows undignify'd the bays.
Law was oppression; reason, violence:
Jocky'd, by sharpers, honesty distrest,
Politely laugh'd at! grew the great man's jest.
Valour was lost, in state-craft—solid sense,
In sound;—and modesty, in impudence.
Then genius sunk, and dullness ravish'd praise,
And laureat brows undignify'd the bays.
FOE to such tasteless times, I shun'd to rise,
For Freedom cannot live, where virtue dies.
Here, tempted, gladly, I obey the call,
And breathe my Roman spirit o'er you, all.
For Freedom cannot live, where virtue dies.
Here, tempted, gladly, I obey the call,
And breathe my Roman spirit o'er you, all.
Henceforth, be Britain
bless'd; from Licence, free,
Let her deserve, and hold fast Liberty:
Let her brave sons disdain their sons to sell,
And taste of freedom, thirst of bribes expel;
Let her, abroad, command, at home, obey;
And love of glory be her statesmen's pay,
Let her, no longer, languishing, and lost,
Feed musick's indolence, at meaning's cost:
Let manly reason, pantomime o'erturn;
Let Shakespear triumph, and let opera burn.
Such is the charmful change, I rise, to bring;
What more remains—two of my sons shall sing.
Let her deserve, and hold fast Liberty:
Let her brave sons disdain their sons to sell,
And taste of freedom, thirst of bribes expel;
Let her, abroad, command, at home, obey;
And love of glory be her statesmen's pay,
319
Feed musick's indolence, at meaning's cost:
Let manly reason, pantomime o'erturn;
Let Shakespear triumph, and let opera burn.
Such is the charmful change, I rise, to bring;
What more remains—two of my sons shall sing.
Replaces himself on the rock. Then rises (to brisk musick) the Genius of Good Sense, on one side, and the Genius of Good-nature, on the other.
The following SONG, To the Tune of Jolly Watermen.
Good Sense.
D'ye know me! yes, Good Sense, my name;Despise me not, though small;
For wou'd the pit grow kind to wit,
You'd see me, soon, grow tall.
Toll loll, &c.
Good Nature.
For me, my name's Good Nature,The tinyest thing alive;
But wou'd you be, from faction, free,
Good Lord! how I should thrive!
Toll loll, &c.
320
Good Sense.
Wou'd handsome wives be rul'd by me,They should, with kindness, kill;
In Joy, grow old, and never scold,
And please, without Quadrille.
Toll loll, &c.
Good Nature.
Their husbands, then, should learn to love,And lead the happiest lives:
Forbear to roam, and find, at home,
Whate'er they want, in wives.
Toll loll, &c.
Good Sense.
The Courtier, he should learn from me,To hope no comfort, there:
And he, whom fate, has made not great,
Should bless his 'scape, from care.
Toll loll, &c.
Good Nature.
To painful prudes, and light coquetts,I'd give these safe alarms:
That art is base, and spoils a face,
While goodness, always charms.
Toll loll, &c.
321
Good Sense.
Poets should fall in love, with me,
Good nature.
With me, the dreadful pit:
Good Sense.
Good sense combin'd—
Good Nature.
Good nature join'd,
Both.
Then, hey boys, up goes wit.
Toll loll, &c.
Genius of Liberty.
Enough, my children; come, attend me, near;And, going, leave, behind, your influence, here.
[All descend into the Places they rose from.]
| The Works of the Late Aaron Hill | |