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Mr. GRANVILLE,

On his excellent Tragedy, called, HEROIC LOVE.

AUSPICIOUS poet, wert thou not my friend,

How could I envy, what I must commend!
But fince 'tis nature's law in love and wit,
That youth should reign, and with'ring age fubmit,
With less regret, those laurels I resign,

Which, dying on my brows, revive on thine.
With better grace an ancient chief may yield
The long contended honours of the field,
Than venture all his fortune at a caft,
And fight like Hannibal, to lose at last.
Young princes obstinate to win the prize,
Tho' yearly beaten, yearly yet they rise:
Old monarchs tho' fuccefsful, ftill in doubt,
Catch at a peace; and wifely turn devout.
Thine be the laurel then; thy blooming age
Can beft, if any can, fupport the stage,
Which fo declines, that fhortly we may fee
Players and plays reduc'd to fecond infancy.
Sharp to the world, but thoughtless of renown,
They plot not on the stage, but on the town,
And in defpair, their empty pit to fill,
Set up fome foreign monster in a bill:

Thus they jog on; ftill tricking, never thriving;
And murd'ring plays, which they mifcall reviving.
Our fenfe is nonfenfe, thro' their pipes convey'd;
Scarce can a poet know the play he made;
'Tis fo difguis'd in death: nor thinks 'tis he
That fuffers in the mangled tragedy.
Thus Itys first was kill'd, and after drefs'd
For his own fire the chief invited guest.

I fay not this of thy fuccefsful fcenes;

Where thine was all the glory, theirs the gains:
With length of time, much judgment and more toil,
Not ill they acted, what they could not spoil:
*Their fetting-fun ftill fhoots a glimm'ring ray,
Like ancient Rome, majestic in decay:

And better gleanings their worn foil can boast,
§ Than the crab-vintage of the neighb'ring coast.
This difference, yet the judging world will see;
Thou copiest Homer, and they copy thee.

JOHN DRYDEN.

*Mr. Betterton's company in Lincolns-inn fields.

§ Drury Lane Play-house.

PROLOGUE.

By the right honourable HENRY ST. JOHNS, Efq;

How hard's the poet's talk, in these our days,
Who fuch dull palates is condemn'd to please,

As damn all fenfe, and only fustian praise?
Charm'd with heroic nonfenfe, lofty strains,
Not with the writers, but the players pains,
And by the actors lungs, judge of the poet's brains.
Let fcribling judges, who your pleasures serve,
Live by your fmiles, or by your anger starve,
To plcafe you in your vain fantastic way,
Renounce their judgment, to fecure their pay:
By written laws, our author would be try`d,
And write as if Athenians fhould decide,
With Horace and the Stagyrite for guide.
Applaufe is welcome, but too dearly bought,
Should we give up one rule, thofe mighty mafters taught.
Yet fome, methinks, I here and there defery,
Who may with ancient Rome and Athens vie;
To whofe tribunal we fubmit with joy :

To them, and only them; for not to wrong ye
'Twould be a shame to please the most among ye.
Chiefly the fofter fex he hopes to move,

Thofe tender judges of heroic love:

To that bright circle he refigns his caufe,
And if they fmile, he asks no more applaufe.

Perfons Names.

MEN.

Agamemnon, king of Argos, general of

the allies at the fiege of Troy.

Achilles, general of the Myrmidons.
Neftor, a Grecian commander.

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Ulyffes, another commander of the Greeks. Mr. Sandford.

Patroclus, the friend of Achilles.

Mr. Scudamore.

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Officers, guards, and attendants to the king.

Chrufeis,

Brifeis,

WOMEN.

Mrs. Barry. Mrs. Bracegirdle.

Artemis, a woman attendant to Chrufeis. Mrs. Prince.

The SCENE is of the Grecian fleet and camp

before Troy.

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