We had not found, in all the num'rous roll
Of his fam'd ancestors, a greater foul :
His early virtues to that ancient stock
Gave as much honor as from thence he took.
Like buds appearing e'er the frofts are past,
To become man he made fuch fatal hafte ;
And to perfection labor'd so to climb,
Preventing flow experience, and time;
That 'tis no wonder death our hopes beguil'd:
He's feldom old, that will not be a child.

G

EPITAPH, unfinish'd.

REAT foul! for whom death will no longer stay,
But fends in hafte to fnatch our blifs away.

O cruel death! to those you take more kind,
Than to the wretched mortals left behind!
Here beauty, youth, and noble virtue, shin'd ;
Free from the clouds of pride that shade the mind.
Infpired verse may on this marble live,

But can no honor to thy ashes give.-

ТНЕ

MAID'S TRAGEDY

ALTER'D.

M 4

SCARCE Should we have the boldness, to pretend
So long renown'd a Tragedy to mend :
Had not already fome defer'd your praise
With like attempt. Of all our elder plays,
This, and PHILASTER, have the loudeft fame :
Great are their faults, and glorious is their flame.
In both, our ENGLISH genius is exprefs'd;
Lofty, and bold; but, negligently dress'd.

Above our neighbours our conceptions are:
But, faultlefs writing is th' effect of care.
Our lines reform'd, and not compos'd in hafte,
Polifb'd like marble, would like marble laft.
But, as the prefent, fo the laft age writ
In both we find like negligence, and wit.
Were we but lefs indulgent to our faults,
And patience had to cultivate our thoughts,
Our Mufe would flourish; and a nobler rage
Would honor this, than did the GRECIAN, Stage.
Thus fays our Author; not content to fee
That others write as carlessly as he :
Tho' he pretends not to make things complete,
Yet, to please you, he'd have the Poets fweat.

In this old play, what's new we have expreft
In rhiming verfe, diftinguish'd from the reft:
That, as the RHONE its hafty way does make,
(Not mingling waters) thro GENEVA's lake:
So, having here the diff'rent ftyles in view,
You may compare the former with the new.
If we lefs rudely shall the knot unty,
Soften the rigor of the Tragedy,
And yet preferve each perfons character ;
Then, to the other, this you may prefer.
'Tis left to you: the Boxes, and the Pit,
Are foreign judges of this fort of wit.
In other things the knowing artist may
Judge better than the people: but, a Play,
(Made for delight, and for no other use)
If you approve it not, has no excuse.

THE

MAID'S TRAGEDY.

A

A CT V.

Enter EVADNE, with a Page of honor.

EVADNE.

MINTOR loft, it were as vain a thing,
As 'tis prodigious, to betray the King.
Compell'd by threats, to take that bloody oath,
And the act ill, I am abfolv'd by both.
This island left, with pity I'll look down

On the King's love, and fierce MELANTIUS' frown.
Thefe will to both my refolution bring:

Page! give MELANTIUS that; this, to the King.
[Exit Page with the Letters.

Under how hard a fate are women born!
Priz'd to their ruin, or expos'd to scorn!
If we want beauty, we of love despair:
And are befieged, like frontier towns, if fair.
The pow'r of Princes armies overthrows:
What can our sex against such force oppose?
Love, and ambition, have an equal share
In their vaft treasures; and it costs as dear
To ruin us, as nations to fubdue:

But we are faulty, tho' all this be true.

For, towns are starv'd, or batter'd, e'er they yield;
But we (perfuaded, rather than compell'd)

For