In order to bring about this beautiful incident, so necessary to heighten in Andromache the character of a tender mother, an affectionate wife, and a widow full of veneration for the memory of her deceased husband, the life of Astyanax is indeed a little prolonged beyond the term fixed to it by the general consent of the ancient authors. But so long as there is nothing improbable in the supposition, a judicious critic will always be pleased when he finds a matter of fact (especially so far removed in the dark and fabulous ages) falsified, for the embellishment of a whole poem.

PROLOGUE.

WRITTEN BY MR. STEELE.

SINCE fancy by itself is loose and vain,
The wise, by rules, that airy power restrain :
They think those writers mad, who at their ease
Convey this house and audience where they please:
Who Nature's stated distances confound,
And make this spot all soils the sun goes round:
'Tis nothing, when a fancy'd scene's in view,
To skip from Covent-Garden to Peru.

But Shakspere's self transgress'd; and shall each elf, Each pigmy genius, quote great Shakspere's self! What critic dares prescribe what's just and fit, Or mark out limits for such boundless wit! Shakspere could travel thro' earth, sea, and air, And paint out all the powers and wonders there. In barren deserts he makes Nature smile, And gives us feasts in his Enchanted Isle. Our author does his feeble force confess, Nor dares pretend such merit to transgress ; Does not such shining gifts of genius share, And therefore makes propriety his care.

Your treat with studied decency he serves;
Not only rules of time and place preserves,
But strives to keep his character intire,

With French correctness, and with British fire.

This piece, presented in a foreign tongue, When France was glorious, and her monarch young, An hundred times a crowded audience drew, An hundred times repeated, still'twas new.

Pyrrhus provok'd, to no wild rants betray'd,
Resents his generous love so ill repay'd;
Does like a man resent, a prince upbraid.
His sentiments disclose a royal mind,
Nor is he known a king from guards behind.

Injur❜d Hermione demands relief ;
But not from heavy narratives of grief:
In conscious majesty her pride is shewn ;
Born to avenge her wrongs, but not bemoan.

Andromache-If in our author's lines,

As in the great original she shines,
Nothing but from barbarity she fears;

Attend with silence, you'll applaud with tears.

Attendants on Pyrrhus and Orestes, &c.

The SCENE, a great ball in the court of Pyrrhus, at Buthrotos, the capital city of Epirus.

THE

DISTREST MOTHER.

ACT 1. SCENE I.

The Palace of PYRRHUS. Enter ORESTES, PYLADES, and Attendants.

Orestes.

OPYLADES! what's life without a friend!

At sight of thee my gloomy soul cheers up;
My hopes revive, and gladness dawns within me.
After an absence of six tedious moons,
How could I hope to find my Pylades,
My joy, my comfort, on this fatal shore ?
Even in the court of Pyrrhus! in these realms,
These hated realms, so cross to all my wishes.
Oh, my brave friend! may no blind stroke of fate
Divide us more, and tear me from myself.

Pyl. O prince! O my Orestes! O my friend!Thus let me speak the welcome of my heart.

[Embracing.

Since I have gain'd this unexpected meeting,

B