The Shamrock or, Hibernian Cresses. A Collection of Poems, Songs, Epigrams, &c. Latin as well as English, The Original Production of Ireland. To which are subjoined thoughts on the prevailing system of school education, respecting young ladies as well as gentlemen: with practical proposals for a reformation [by Samuel Whyte] |
 |
|
| I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
| VI. |
| VII. |
| VIII. |
AN Occasional PROLOGUE to the Tragedy of Zara,
|
|
|
| I. |
| II. |
|
|
| I. |
| II. |
| I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
|
|
| I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
|
| I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
|
| I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
| VI. |
| VII. |
| VIII. |
| IX. |
| X. |
|
| I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
| VI. |
| VII. |
| VIII. |
|
| I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
| VI. |
| VII. |
| VIII. |
| I. |
| II. |
| III. |
 | The Shamrock |  |
53
AN Occasional PROLOGUE to the Tragedy of Zara,
Performed at WATERSTOWN, January 7th, 1769.
INSCRIBED TO The Right Hon. MARGARETTA, Countess of LOUTH
.
Quite out of Fashion in the sickening Town,
Neither tragic Scenes, nor comic, will go down:
To empty Benches Juliet makes her Moan;
And rack'd Othello's Occupation's gone.
Lee, Congreve, Steel, and Otway, all retire,
Run down by Foot, the Devil, and the Lyar;
And Foot, in Turn, finds it in vain to cope,
Preposterous Taste! with Dancers on the Rope;
Now, even those, they're leaving in the Lurch;
And yawn at Crow-street—as they yawn at Church.
Ye Bards, and Players, cease your fruitless Toil;
Spadill's the Touch—your only Author—Hoyle:
With him, the Grave and Gay, the Old and Young,
Nobles and Sharpers, one promiscuous Throng,
Night after Night their anxious Vigils keep;
And Basto, not Macbeth, now murders Sleep:
While guzzling Statesmen o'er their Bottle drone,
And greatly quit all Interest, but—their own.
Neither tragic Scenes, nor comic, will go down:
To empty Benches Juliet makes her Moan;
And rack'd Othello's Occupation's gone.
Lee, Congreve, Steel, and Otway, all retire,
Run down by Foot, the Devil, and the Lyar;
And Foot, in Turn, finds it in vain to cope,
Preposterous Taste! with Dancers on the Rope;
Now, even those, they're leaving in the Lurch;
And yawn at Crow-street—as they yawn at Church.
Ye Bards, and Players, cease your fruitless Toil;
Spadill's the Touch—your only Author—Hoyle:
With him, the Grave and Gay, the Old and Young,
Nobles and Sharpers, one promiscuous Throng,
Night after Night their anxious Vigils keep;
And Basto, not Macbeth, now murders Sleep:
54
And greatly quit all Interest, but—their own.
Not so the wise Athenians could abuse,
With cold Neglect, the chaste, instructive Muse;
In Sentiment, not Sense, their Joys they plac'd;
And Honour's Portraits from its Sources trac'd;
They felt her Powers, protected, and refin'd;
And thus to Virtue charm'd the stubborn Mind.
Sage Legislators, oft, in Days of Yore,
For that great End, the Sock and Buskin wore;
Nor would the foremost Matrons of the Age
Then blush to tread the unpolluted Stage:
Reason in all directed their Regards;
Nor Claret sought they, Riots, Drums, or Cards:
Yet Athens—truce to Sneering—all agree,
Knew what was Life, and had her Beaux Esprits.
With cold Neglect, the chaste, instructive Muse;
In Sentiment, not Sense, their Joys they plac'd;
And Honour's Portraits from its Sources trac'd;
They felt her Powers, protected, and refin'd;
And thus to Virtue charm'd the stubborn Mind.
Sage Legislators, oft, in Days of Yore,
For that great End, the Sock and Buskin wore;
Nor would the foremost Matrons of the Age
Then blush to tread the unpolluted Stage:
Reason in all directed their Regards;
Nor Claret sought they, Riots, Drums, or Cards:
Yet Athens—truce to Sneering—all agree,
Knew what was Life, and had her Beaux Esprits.
Here, in fair Freedom's ever honour'd Seat,
To Night we furnish an Athenian Treat:
And, fain to please, to give it ampler Chance,
Tho' dress'd in English, 'tis the Growth of France;
And sure its Merits must be Sterling true,
Which a “twice twentieth weeping Audience drew.”
Yet more—if that's of Weight—we grace our Scenes
With the first Blood this warlike Realm contains,
From Henry's Times, in pure Succession fam'd,
When Worth alone, not Wealth, Distinction claim'd.
To Night we furnish an Athenian Treat:
And, fain to please, to give it ampler Chance,
Tho' dress'd in English, 'tis the Growth of France;
And sure its Merits must be Sterling true,
Which a “twice twentieth weeping Audience drew.”
Yet more—if that's of Weight—we grace our Scenes
With the first Blood this warlike Realm contains,
From Henry's Times, in pure Succession fam'd,
When Worth alone, not Wealth, Distinction claim'd.
55
For the dear
Objects of my pleasing Care—
I own, I feel paternal Fondness there;
Their modest Tremors, sympathising, read;
And for their weak Attempts Indulgence plead—
Though noble Osman in Expression fail,
Within the generous Sentiments prevail:
Regard with kind Allowance Zara's Woe;
For in her Bosom Truth and Honour glow:
And, warmly pleading in the Cause of Heaven,
Be gentle Selima's slight Faults forgiven.
Though short in those, yet, in their real Parts,
(For well I know the Language of their Hearts)
One arduous Task they aim at, as they should,
To be, like you, all amiable and good.
I own, I feel paternal Fondness there;
Their modest Tremors, sympathising, read;
And for their weak Attempts Indulgence plead—
Though noble Osman in Expression fail,
Within the generous Sentiments prevail:
Regard with kind Allowance Zara's Woe;
For in her Bosom Truth and Honour glow:
And, warmly pleading in the Cause of Heaven,
Be gentle Selima's slight Faults forgiven.
Though short in those, yet, in their real Parts,
(For well I know the Language of their Hearts)
One arduous Task they aim at, as they should,
To be, like you, all amiable and good.
- Osman, The Right Hon. Lady Elizabeth Birmingham.
- Lusignan, The Earl of Louth, Premier Baron of Ireland.
- Nerestan, and the Prologue, Mr. Whyte.
- Orasmin, Mr. ô Reilly.
- Zara, Miss ô Reilly.
- Selima, The Right Hon. Lady Mary Birmingham.
The PARTS were cast as follow, viz.
| The Shamrock | |