 | The Tragedy of Marcus Brutus |  |
PROLOGUE by the AUTHOR.
Our
Scene is Athens. And Great Athens nam'd,
What Soul so dull as not to be enflam'd?
Methinks, at mentioning that sacred place,
A reverend Awe appears in ev'ry Face,
For Men so fam'd, of such prodigious Parts,
As taught the World all Sciences and Arts.
What Soul so dull as not to be enflam'd?
Methinks, at mentioning that sacred place,
A reverend Awe appears in ev'ry Face,
For Men so fam'd, of such prodigious Parts,
As taught the World all Sciences and Arts.
Amidst all these, ye shall behold a Man
The most applauded since Mankind began;
Out-shining ev'n those Greeks who most excell;
Whose Life was one fix'd course of doing well.
Oh who can therefore without Tears attend
On such a Life, and such a fatal End?
The most applauded since Mankind began;
Out-shining ev'n those Greeks who most excell;
Whose Life was one fix'd course of doing well.
Oh who can therefore without Tears attend
On such a Life, and such a fatal End?
But here our Author, besides other Faults
Of ill Expressions, and of vulgar Thoughts,
Commits one Crime that needs an Act of Grace,
And breaks the Law of Unity of Place:
Yet, to such noble Patriots, overcome
By factious Violence, and banish'd Rome,
Athens alone a fit Retreat could yield:
And where can Brutus fall, but in Philippi Field?
Of ill Expressions, and of vulgar Thoughts,
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And breaks the Law of Unity of Place:
Yet, to such noble Patriots, overcome
By factious Violence, and banish'd Rome,
Athens alone a fit Retreat could yield:
And where can Brutus fall, but in Philippi Field?
Some Criticks judge, ev'n Love itself too mean
A care to mix in such a lofty Scene,
And with those ancient Bards of Greece believe
Friendship has stronger Charms to please or grieve:
But our more am'rous Poet, finding Love
Amidst all other Cares still shines above;
Lets not the best of Romans end their Lives
Without just softness for the kindness Wives.
Yet, if ye think his gentle Nature such,
As to have soften'd this great Tale too much,
Soon will your Eyes grow dry, and Passion fall;
When ye reflect 'tis all but Conjugall.
A care to mix in such a lofty Scene,
And with those ancient Bards of Greece believe
Friendship has stronger Charms to please or grieve:
But our more am'rous Poet, finding Love
Amidst all other Cares still shines above;
Lets not the best of Romans end their Lives
Without just softness for the kindness Wives.
Yet, if ye think his gentle Nature such,
As to have soften'd this great Tale too much,
Soon will your Eyes grow dry, and Passion fall;
When ye reflect 'tis all but Conjugall.
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This to the few and knowing was addrest;
And now 'tis fit I should salute the rest.
And now 'tis fit I should salute the rest.
Most reverend, dull Judges of the Pit,
By Nature curs'd with the wrong side of Wit!
You need not care what e'er you see to Night,
How ill some Players act, or Poets write;
Should our mistakes be never so notorious,
You'll have the joy of being more censorius
Shew your small Talent then, let that suffice ye,
But grow not vain upon it, I advise ye;
Each petty Critic can Objections raise,
The greatest Skill is knowing when to praise.
By Nature curs'd with the wrong side of Wit!
You need not care what e'er you see to Night,
How ill some Players act, or Poets write;
Should our mistakes be never so notorious,
You'll have the joy of being more censorius
Shew your small Talent then, let that suffice ye,
But grow not vain upon it, I advise ye;
Each petty Critic can Objections raise,
The greatest Skill is knowing when to praise.
| The Tragedy of Marcus Brutus | |