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PROLOGUE. Written by Mr. THEOBALD; And Spoken by Mr. QUIN.
  
  

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PROLOGUE. Written by Mr. THEOBALD; And Spoken by Mr. QUIN.

When awful Rome became the savage Spoil
Of wild Ambition, and of factious Broil;
When by the Ruin Tyrant Nero rose,
Lucan found Cause for Triumph from her Woes:
He pardon'd all the Civil Sword had done,
And bless'd the War, which fix'd That Nero's Throne.
So, poor Saguntum! tho' we justly rate
Thy mighty Suff'rings and disastrous Fate;
Yet if the dread Misfortune give us Right
To claim the Tragic Pleasures of To-night,
Well art thou fall'n,—more nobly here to rise,—
And boast thy Doom, bewept by British Eyes!
Well is your Famine paid, and well your Flame,
Which blazes still the distant Theme of Fame.
Britons, our Scene a pompous Tale displays
Of Woes unmatch'd on the Records of Praise;
A Patriot-People, who Death's Terrors scorn,
But dread the Breach of Leagues, and Friendship sworn:
The willing Victims to a virtuous Name,
All perish greatly, not to live with Shame.
The brave Example pictur'd to your Eyes,
Be just, and your own Virtues recognize:


Applaud the Bard, whose artful Muse has known
To trace the Springs of Worth, so much your own.
Our British Arms this gen'rous Pride avow,
To guard Allies,—and Empires to bestow.—
If We did e'er to our own Honours fail;
If e'er unhappy Counsels did prevail
To let a brave Confed'rate miss our Aid,
Be That ill-fated Period thrown in Shade!
Or, to erase the memorable Blame,
Let's mend by Glory what we can't disclaim!