 | The Arab |  |
2
Prologue to the Arab. Mr Henderson
Prologues were first devis'd to introduce
The Scene's ensuing fable, but abuse
Hath marr'd a good old custom, and they shew
Everything now—but what you wish to know.
The Scene's ensuing fable, but abuse
Hath marr'd a good old custom, and they shew
Everything now—but what you wish to know.
Our Author, ever studious to obey
And follow where your wishes point the way,
Bids me premise, that in these Scenes you'll find
The coarse rude sketch of an untutor'd Mind,
Heaven's work unfinish'd, a deserted Child
Of Nature, dropt in an Arabian wild:
Snatcht to a throne, before his wondering Eyes
He sees a new-discover'd world arise;
Revenge, Ambition sturggle for controul,
Love tempts, and Jealousy torments his Soul:
Whilst furious passions urge his wavering Youth,
And his Soul vibrates betwixt guilt and truth,
The Bard steps in—with Virtue's conquring Wreath;
And crowns him sinking in the arms of death.
And follow where your wishes point the way,
Bids me premise, that in these Scenes you'll find
The coarse rude sketch of an untutor'd Mind,
Heaven's work unfinish'd, a deserted Child
Of Nature, dropt in an Arabian wild:
Snatcht to a throne, before his wondering Eyes
He sees a new-discover'd world arise;
Revenge, Ambition sturggle for controul,
Love tempts, and Jealousy torments his Soul:
Whilst furious passions urge his wavering Youth,
And his Soul vibrates betwixt guilt and truth,
The Bard steps in—with Virtue's conquring Wreath;
And crowns him sinking in the arms of death.
There is, who acts Revenge's direst part,
And braves the' unwelcome province of her art,
Staunch to ye drama's duty, at the word
Forbears to please and strives to be abhorr'd;
Like the Cumæan Sibyll bound to go
Her bard's Companion to the shades below;
On her dark visit fearless she descends,
To snatch her Lawrels from the vanquisht Fiend.
In times long past the English Muse was known
To stock new Worlds with Beings of her own:
Bright Inspiration burst from Shakspear's Mind
Wild as the torrent, lawless as the wind;
Exhausted Nature at her partial breast
To feed one giant Son starv'd all the rest;
Fainting she sate by Avon's flowery Side,
Then sunk—exulting with a Mother's pride.
Weak Pity saw the Mighty Master rise
And trembling turn'd aside with Streaming Eyes;
Love, Love himself at last compell'd to yeild,
Ling'ring retir'd—and Terror seiz'd the field:
Then, then the Poet, rising in his art,
No longer courted, but compell'd the heart;
Then Swift as thought his magic-moving Scene
Tho' Mountains rose and Oceans roll'd between,
Vaulted from realm to realm—The World's wide Sphere
Was Space too narrow for his vast Career.
Oh! that these glorious triumphs of the Stage
Had been reserv'd for this Enlighten'd Age!
And braves the' unwelcome province of her art,
Staunch to ye drama's duty, at the word
Forbears to please and strives to be abhorr'd;
Like the Cumæan Sibyll bound to go
Her bard's Companion to the shades below;
On her dark visit fearless she descends,
To snatch her Lawrels from the vanquisht Fiend.
In times long past the English Muse was known
To stock new Worlds with Beings of her own:
Bright Inspiration burst from Shakspear's Mind
Wild as the torrent, lawless as the wind;
Exhausted Nature at her partial breast
To feed one giant Son starv'd all the rest;
Fainting she sate by Avon's flowery Side,
Then sunk—exulting with a Mother's pride.
Weak Pity saw the Mighty Master rise
And trembling turn'd aside with Streaming Eyes;
Love, Love himself at last compell'd to yeild,
Ling'ring retir'd—and Terror seiz'd the field:
Then, then the Poet, rising in his art,
No longer courted, but compell'd the heart;
Then Swift as thought his magic-moving Scene
Tho' Mountains rose and Oceans roll'd between,
Vaulted from realm to realm—The World's wide Sphere
Was Space too narrow for his vast Career.
Oh! that these glorious triumphs of the Stage
Had been reserv'd for this Enlighten'd Age!
| The Arab | |