 | Henry the Second ; Or, The Fall of Rosamond |  |
vii
PROLOGUE, Written and Spoken by the AUTHOR.
Long
Time oppress'd with painful Doubts and Fears,
At length the dread decisive Hour appears,
The awful Trial comes! and here I stand,
T'abide the Verdict of my native Land.
Will not the Judge himself for Favour plead,
When the poor trembling Culprit owns the Dead;
When in false Arts he scorns to seek Support,
But throws him on the Mercy of the Court?
At length the dread decisive Hour appears,
The awful Trial comes! and here I stand,
T'abide the Verdict of my native Land.
Will not the Judge himself for Favour plead,
When the poor trembling Culprit owns the Dead;
When in false Arts he scorns to seek Support,
But throws him on the Mercy of the Court?
Such is my State, whom wild Ambition draws
To stand the Judgment of dramatic Laws;
Bold the Attempt, (and, much I fear, in vain)
That I, the humblest in the Muses' Train,
Should dare produce; in this nice-judging Age,
My own weak Efforts on the dang'rous Stage!
To stand the Judgment of dramatic Laws;
Bold the Attempt, (and, much I fear, in vain)
That I, the humblest in the Muses' Train,
Should dare produce; in this nice-judging Age,
My own weak Efforts on the dang'rous Stage!
Had I the slightest Touch of plaintive Rowe,
Whose Numbers oft have bade your Sorrows flow,
Your Plaudit undismay'd I might implore,
And Rosamond might plead, like hapless Shore:
Whose Numbers oft have bade your Sorrows flow,
Your Plaudit undismay'd I might implore,
And Rosamond might plead, like hapless Shore:
But as it is, your Kindness be my Friend,
For that alone I sue—to that I bend.
If by an artless Tale, in artless Strain,
A mild and patient Hearing I obtain,
And my poor Labours o'er, behold ye part
With unpain'd Ear and undisgusted Heart,
'Twere Triumph and Delight! but if the Lays,
Deserve your Censure, which aspir'd to Praise,
Ev'n to your Kindness will I not presume,
Nor strive to deprecate my proper Doom;
This sole Indulgence let my Fault procure,
Mildly inflict, submissive I endure.
For that alone I sue—to that I bend.
If by an artless Tale, in artless Strain,
A mild and patient Hearing I obtain,
And my poor Labours o'er, behold ye part
With unpain'd Ear and undisgusted Heart,
'Twere Triumph and Delight! but if the Lays,
Deserve your Censure, which aspir'd to Praise,
Ev'n to your Kindness will I not presume,
Nor strive to deprecate my proper Doom;
This sole Indulgence let my Fault procure,
Mildly inflict, submissive I endure.
| Henry the Second ; Or, The Fall of Rosamond | |