 | Pompey the Great |  |
PROLOGUE AT THE HOUSE.
From Greece, the place, where Wit and Learning grew,To Conquering Rome, the Banish'd Muses flew,
With other Spoils adorning so her State,
That all her Writers seem but to Translate;
From thence the Roman Eagle on her Wing,
These Entertainments tow'rds the North did bring,
Of such Delights cold Regions owe their part,
Not to kind Nature, but to Care and Art:
The Peach, the Tulip, Nectarine and Rose,
Not in our Woods, but in our Garden grows;
Who nothing will but what is Home-bred taste,
Must live content with Acorns and with Mast;
For your Diversion we this Night present,
A Fruit which grew upon the Continent;
Of all that's French, 'tis Rank'd among the best,
And may prove better in our Language dress'd;
As Flowers Transplanted recompence our Toyl,
Doubling their Beauties with their Change of Soil;
This you must judge of, only make us bold
With kind Attention, and you shall behold
How Cleopatra Looks, how Cæsar Burns,
How Pompey Dyes, and how Cornelia Mourns.
| Pompey the Great | |