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PROLOGUE.
  
  

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PROLOGUE.

Spoke by Mr. Keen.
'Tis rumour'd, with what Justice you best know,
All Tragædies of late unwelcome grow,
And that you cannot pity Scenes of Woe;
Yet did this groundless Notion strive in vain
To fright our Author fom his Tragick Strain,
For Tragædies are your peculiar Care,
And Tutelary Mercy guides the Fair;
Thus on your Pity hazarding his Fame,
If you permit his Wreck, you share his Shame,
Guard him ye Fair Ones, and his Wishes Crown,
For if you smile, ill Nature dares not frown.
To Night our Author tells an English Story,
And brings your Ancestors to Life before ye;
Heroes, whose innate Worth descends to you,
Ev'n to the History there's some Reverence due;
The Wise still profit with their Pleasure, Love,
The Stage shou'd both divert us, and improve;
Example shou'd insensibly prevail,
And the Couch'd Moral enter with the Tale;
Wou'd you but smile upon Designs like these,
We shou'd by nobler Methods strive to please,
With sinew'd Sense our future Scenes shou'd shine,
And the low Strain give place to the Divine;
Your wish'd Applause wou'd so refine the Age,
That Britain shou'd outvie the fam'd Athenian Stage.