 | Appius and Virginia |  |
PROLOGUE.
Our Author's Friends appear concern'd to DayFor the Success of this rough manly Play;
While Britain seems to all that's soft inclin'd,
What welcome here can our rude Romans find?
Who Love without one word of whining Cant,
And Rage without the buskind Bullies Rant.
Whose Fire to Judgment rarely gives offence,
But is maintain'd by Nature and by Sense.
Rome warm'd by nervous Scenes for Empire fought,
Such Cæsar saw with Joy, with Joy such Cæsar wrought.
And Tragedy with bare appearance writ
Of Roman Spirit, and of Roman Wit;
Requires an Audience with them both inspir'd,
And to the Like immortal Actions fir'd.
True it requires all this, and therefore here
W'indulge our fondest Hopes, and banish Fear;
Why should not you Rome's manly Joys persue,
When all that Fire that could the World subdue,
Yes, all the Roman Spirit lives in you;
Be witness that eternal Day which quell'd
The vanquish'd Gaul upon the wond'ring Scheld.
Like Hannibal the crafty Vendome fled,
While Britain fought like Rome, like Scipio Marlborough led;
Vouchsafe ye Britons to support the Muse,
Whose Flame your deathless Acts had Power t'infuse,
By your great Deeds our Poet rais'd his Stile,
And as he read of Wynendale and Lisle,
His Romans with a fiercer Rage he drew
Improv'd his noblest Characters by you.
His Soul t'immortal Heights your Glory fir'd,
And British Acts these Roman Scenes inspir'd.
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