Fatal Friendship A tragedy |
To the Ingenious AUTHOR, ON HER Tragedy, call'd Fatal Friendship.
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To the Ingenious AUTHOR, ON HER Tragedy, call'd Fatal Friendship.
Sent by an Unknown Hand.
As
when Camilla once, a Warlike Dame
In bloody Battles won immortal Fame;
Forsook her Female Arts, and chose to bear
The pondrous Shield, and heave the massy Spear,
Superiour to her Sex; so swift she flew
Around the Field, and such vast Numbers slew,
That Friends and Foes alike surpriz'd behold
The brave Virago desperately Bold,
And thought her Pallas in a human Mold.
Such is our Wonder, matchless Maid! to see
The Tragick Laurel thus deserv'd by thee.
In bloody Battles won immortal Fame;
Forsook her Female Arts, and chose to bear
The pondrous Shield, and heave the massy Spear,
Superiour to her Sex; so swift she flew
Around the Field, and such vast Numbers slew,
That Friends and Foes alike surpriz'd behold
The brave Virago desperately Bold,
And thought her Pallas in a human Mold.
Such is our Wonder, matchless Maid! to see
The Tragick Laurel thus deserv'd by thee.
Yet greater Praise is yours; Camilla shines
For ever bright in Virgil's Sacred Lines,
You in your own;—where to the World's last Date
You shall survive, and Triumph over Fate;
Nor need you to anothers Bounty owe
For what your self can on your self bestow.
So Monarchs in full Health were wont to rear
At their own-charge, their future Sepulchre.
For ever bright in Virgil's Sacred Lines,
You in your own;—where to the World's last Date
You shall survive, and Triumph over Fate;
Nor need you to anothers Bounty owe
For what your self can on your self bestow.
So Monarchs in full Health were wont to rear
At their own-charge, their future Sepulchre.
Who thy Perfections fully wou'd commend
Must think how others do their Hours mispend,
In Trifling Visits, Pride, Impertinence
Dress, Dancing, and Discourse quite void of Sence.
To twirl a Fan, to please some foolish Beau,
And sing an empty Song the most they know,
In Body weak, more Impotent of mind—
Thus some have represented Woman-kind;
But you your Sexes Champion are come forth
To fight their Quarrel, and assert their Worth.
Our Salique Law of Wit you have destroy'd,
Establish'd Female Claim, and Triumph'd o'er our Pride;
While We look on, and with repining Eyes
Behold you bearing off so rich a Prize,
Spight of Ill-Nature we're compell'd t'approve
Such dazling Worth, and spight of Envy love.
Must think how others do their Hours mispend,
In Trifling Visits, Pride, Impertinence
Dress, Dancing, and Discourse quite void of Sence.
To twirl a Fan, to please some foolish Beau,
And sing an empty Song the most they know,
In Body weak, more Impotent of mind—
Thus some have represented Woman-kind;
But you your Sexes Champion are come forth
To fight their Quarrel, and assert their Worth.
Establish'd Female Claim, and Triumph'd o'er our Pride;
While We look on, and with repining Eyes
Behold you bearing off so rich a Prize,
Spight of Ill-Nature we're compell'd t'approve
Such dazling Worth, and spight of Envy love.
Nor is this all th'applause that is your Due;
You stand the first of Stage-Reformers too.
No Vicious Stains pollute your moral Scene;
Chast are your Thoughts, and your Expression clean
Strains such as yours the strictest Test will bear:
Sing boldly then! nor busy Censure fear;
Your Virgin Voice offends no Virgin Ear.
Proceed, in Tragick Numbers to disclose
Strange Turns of Fate, and unexpected Woes!
Reward and punish; awfully dispence
Heav'ns Judgments, and declare a Providence!
Nor let the Comick Muse your Labours share;
'Tis Meaness after this the Sock to wear.
Tho' that too merit Praise, 'tis nobler Toil
T'extort a Tear, than to provoke a Smile.
What Hand that can design a History
Wou'd Copy Low-Land Boors at Snick a Snee?
You stand the first of Stage-Reformers too.
No Vicious Stains pollute your moral Scene;
Chast are your Thoughts, and your Expression clean
Strains such as yours the strictest Test will bear:
Sing boldly then! nor busy Censure fear;
Your Virgin Voice offends no Virgin Ear.
Proceed, in Tragick Numbers to disclose
Strange Turns of Fate, and unexpected Woes!
Reward and punish; awfully dispence
Heav'ns Judgments, and declare a Providence!
Nor let the Comick Muse your Labours share;
'Tis Meaness after this the Sock to wear.
Tho' that too merit Praise, 'tis nobler Toil
T'extort a Tear, than to provoke a Smile.
What Hand that can design a History
Wou'd Copy Low-Land Boors at Snick a Snee?
Accept this Tribute Madam! and excuse
The hasty Raptures of a Stranger-Muse.
The hasty Raptures of a Stranger-Muse.
| Fatal Friendship | |