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9

PROLOGUE.

Spoken by Mr. Quin.
No labour'd Scenes to Night adorn our Stage,
Lillo's plain Sense wou'd here the Heart engage.
He knew no Art, no Rule; but warmly thought
From Passion's Force, and as he felt he wrote.
His Barnwell once no Critick's Test cou'd bear,
Yet from each Eye still draws the natural Tear.
With generous Candour hear his latest Strains,
And let kind Pity shelter his Remains.
Deprest by Want, afflicted by Disease,
Dying he wrote, and dying wish'd to please.
Oh may that Wish be now humanely paid,
And no harsh Critick vex his gentle Shade.
'Tis yours his unsupported Fame to save,
And bid one Laurel grace his humble Grave.