All this is far above our reach,

Whatever pricfts prefume to preach.

PROLOGUE

то

MARCUS BRU TU S.

OUR

UR fcene is Athens. And, great Athens nam'd,
What foul fo dull as not to be inflam'd?
Methinks, at mentioning that facred place,
A reverend awe appears in every face,
For men fo fam'd, of fuch prodigious parts,
As taught the world all fciences and arts.

Amidst all thefe ye fhall behold a man
The most applauded since mankind began,
Out-fhining ev'n thofe Greeks who most excel,
Whofe life was one fix'd course of doing well.
Oh! who can therefore without tears attend
On fuch a life, and fuch a fatal end?

But here our author, befides other faults
Of ill expreffions, and of vulgar thoughts,
Commits one crime that needs an act of grace,
And breaks the law of unity of place:
Yet to fuch 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 critics judge ev'n love itself too mean
A care to mix in fuch a lofty scene,

And with those ancient bards of Greece believe
Friendship has ftronger charms to please or grieve :
But our more amorous poet, finding love
Amidst all other cares, ftill fhines above,
Lets not the best of Romans end their lives.
Without just softness for the kindeft wives,
Yet, if ye think his gentle nature fuch
As to have foften'd this great tale too much,
Soon will your eyes grow dry, and paffion fall,
When ye reflect 'tis all but conjugal.

This to the few and knowing was addreft;
And now 'tis fit I should falute the rest.
Moft reverend dull judges of the pit,
By nature curs'd with the wrong fide of wit!
You need not care, what-e'er you fee to-night,
How ill fome players act, or poets write;
Should our mistakes be never fo notorious,
You'll have the joy of being more cenforious :
Shew your finall talent then, let that fuffice ye;
But grow not vain upon it, I advise ye;
Each petty critic can objections raise,
The greatest skill is knowing when to praise.

CHORUSES IN MARCUS BRUTU

*CHORUS

I.

DARK is the maze poor mortals tread;

Wisdom itself a guide will need:

We little thought, when Cæfar bled,
That a worfe Cæfar would fucceed.
And are we under fuch a curse,
We cannot change but for the worse ?

II.

With fair pretence of foreign force,
By which Rome must herself enthral ;
Thefe, without blushes or remorse,
Profcribe the best, impoverish all.
The Gauls themselves, our greatest foes,
Could act no mischiefs worse than those.

III.

That Julius, with ambitious thoughts,
Had virtues too, his foes could find;
These equal him in all his faults,
But never in his noble mind.
That free-born spirits should obey
Wretches, who know not how to sway!

IV.

Late we repent our hafty choice,
In vain bemoan fo quick a turn.
Hark all to Rome's united voice!

Better that we a while had borne

III.

Ev'n

* See the first and fecond choruses, in the poems of Mr. Pope.

Ev'n all those ills which most displease,
Than fought a cure far worse than the disease.

CHORUS

IV.

UR vows thus chearfully we fing, While martial mufic fires our blood; Let all the neighbouring echoes ring

With clamours for our country's good:
And, for reward, of the juft gods we claim,
A life with freedom, or a death with fame.

May Rome be freed from war's alarms,
And taxes heavy to be borne;

May the beware of foreign arms,

And fend them back with noble fcorn :

And, for reward, &c.

May the no more confide in friends,

Who nothing farther understood,

Than only, for their private ends,

To wafte her wealth, and spill her blood :

And, for reward, &c.

Our fenators, great Jove, reftrain

From private piques, they prudence call; From the low thoughts of little gain,

And hazarding the lofing all :

And, for reward, &c.

The fhining arms with hafte prepare,
Then to the glorious combat fly;
Our minds unclogg'd with farther care,
Except to overcome or die :

And, for reward, &c.

They fight, oppreffion to increase,
We for our liberties and laws
It were a fin to doubt fuccefs,

;

When freedom is the noble caufe :

And, for reward, of the just gods we claim
A life with freedom, or a death with fame.

CON