Ev'ry thicket, bush, and tree, So like the place from whence I came, SCENE IV. GRIDELINE AND SIR TRUSTY. GRIDELINE. Have I then liv'd to see this hour, SIR TRUSTY. Widow Trusty, why so fine? Why dost thou thus in colours shine? Thou shouldst thy husband's death bewail In sable vesture, peak, and veil. GRIDELINE. Forbear these foolish freaks, and see SIR TRUSTY. Am I bewitch'd, or do I dream? GRIDELINE. I'll too my plighted vows renew, Since 'tis so courtly to be true. "Since conjugal passion And marriage so blest on the throne is, And Sir Trusty shall be my Adonis. SIR TRUSTY. "And Sir Trusty shall be thy Adonis." The King and Queen advancing. KING. Who to forbidden joys would rove, BOTH. "Who to forbidden joys would rove, That knows the sweets of virtuous love?" PROLOGUE TO THE TENDER HUSBAND*. SPOKEN BY MR. WILKS. IN N the first rise and infancy of Farce, When fools were many, and when plays were scarce, In every piece, a coxcomb that was new. But now our British theatre can boast Drolls of all kinds, a vast unthinking host! Fruitful of folly and of vice, it shows Cuckolds, and cits, and bawds, and pimps, and beaux, Rough country knights are found of every shire; Of every fashion gentle fops appear; And punks of different characters we meet, * A comedy written by Sir Richard Steele. As love of pleasure, or of place invites: and new, The t'other more refin'd; she comes from France: Rescue, like courteous knights, the nymph from danger; And kindly treat, like well-bred men, the stranger. EPILOGUE TO THE BRITISH ENCHANTERS*. WHEN Orpheus tun'd his lyre with pleasing woe, That this night's strains the same success may find, A dramatic poem written by the Lord Lansdown. The desert smiles; the woods begin to grow, The same dull sights in the same landscape mix'd, Scenes of still life, and points for ever fix'd, A tedious pleasure on the mind bestow, And pall the sense with one continu'd show: But as our two magicians try their skill, The vision varies, though the place stands still, While the same spot its gaudy form renews, Shifting the prospect to a thousand views. Thus (without unity of place transgress'd) Th' enchanter turns the critic to a jest. But howsoe'er, to please your wand'ring eyes, Bright objects disappear and brighter rise: There's none can make amends for lost delight, While from that cirle we divert your sight. HORACE, ODE III. BOOK III. Augustus had a design to rebuild Troy, and make it the Metropolis of the Roman Empire, having closeted several Senators on the project: Horace is supposed to have written the following Ode on this occasion. THE HE man resolv'd and steady to his trust, Inflexible to ill, and obstinately just, May the rude rabble's insolence despise, Their senseless clamours and tumultuous cries; The tyrant's fierceness he beguiles, And the stern brow, and the harsh voice defies, Not the rough whirlwind, that deforms |