The fable has a moral too, if sought;
But let that go; for, upon second thought,
He fears but few come hither to be taught.
Yet if you will be profited, you may;
And he would bribe you too, to like his play.
He dies, at least to us, and to the stage,
And what he has he leaves this noble age.
He leaves you, first, all plays of his inditing,
The whole estate, which he has got by writing.
The beaux may think this nothing but vain praise;
They'll find it something, the testator says;
For half their love is made from scraps of plays.
To his worst foes, he leaves his honesty,
That they may thrive upon't as much as he.
He leaves his manners to the roaring boys,
Who come in drunk, and fill the house with noise.
He leaves to the dire critics of his wit,

His silence and contempt of all they writ.
To Shakespeare's critic, he bequeaths the curse,
To find his faults; and yet himself make worse;
A precious reader, in poetic schools,
Who by his own examples damns his rules.
Last, for the fair, he wishes you may be,
From your dull critics, the lampooners, free.
Though he pretends no legacy to leave you,
An old man may at least good wishes give you.
Your beauty names the play; and may it prove
To each, an omen of triumphant love!

*

}

'I do not know if any individual is here levelled at. Shakespeare has had his critics in all ages, who, like the inexpert tinker, have generally made two holes in patching one. In the end of the seventeenth century, his plays were usually acted in a sophisticated state, as altered by Tate, D'Avenant, Crowne, Ravenscroft, and others. The last, in the preface to his alteration of "Titus Andronicus," has the impudence to say, "That if the reader will compare the old play with his copy, he will find that none in all that author's works ever received greater alterations or additions, the language not only refined, but many scenes entirely new, besides most of the principal characters heightened, and the plot much increased."

XIMENA, Queen of Arragon.

VICTORIA, eldest Daughter to the King and Queen. CELIDEA, her Sister.

DALINDA, Daughter to LOPEZ.

A Nurse with two Children.

SCENE,-Saragossa in Spain.

LOVE TRIUMPHANT;

OR,

NATURE WILL PREVAIL.

ACT I.

SCENE I.-A Presence-chamber.

At the drawing up of the Curtain, VERAMOND, King of Arragon, appears; XIMENA, the Queen, by him: VICTORIA, their eldest Daughter, on the right Hand; and CELIDEA, their younger Daughter, on the left: Courtiers stand attending in File on each side of the Stage: The Men on the one Hand, the Ladies on the other. Amongst the Men, DON LOPEZ; amongst the Women, DALINDA, his Daughter.

Vera. Now the long wars betwixt Castile and Arragon

Are ended in the ruin of our foes;

And fierce Ramirez, the Castilian king,
Who tugged for empire with our warlike son,
In single combat taken, adds his laurels
To the young victor's brow: our tender maids,
And trembling children, shall with scorn behold
The haughty captive, who had made his vaunts,
To lay their dwellings level; and with salt
To sow the place, where Saragossa stood.

Xim. Processions, prayers, and public thanks to

heaven,

Were fit to be decreed.

Vera. Your sex is ever foremost in devotion.
But for our brave confederate, young Navarre,
He shall receive the prize reserved within
My breast; and such a one,

His youth and valour have right well deserved.
Xim. I hear he comes along with our Alphonso,
And, next our son, did best.

Vera. Perhaps as well;

Alphonso's action was indeed more glorious,
To buckle with a king in single fight,

And take him prisoner; but his fiery temper
Still hurries him to daring rash attempts.

Xim. Alphonso is impetuous, but he's noble;
He will not take one atom from Navarre
Of what's his right, nor needs he.

Vera. If he should

Xim. You take too bad impressions of your son. Vera. No more, Ximena, for I hear their trumpets Proclaim their entry; and our own their welcome.

[Trumpets from each side of the Stage.

Enter ALPHONSO and GARCIA, hand in hand. Af ter them, the Prisoner, King RAMIREZ, alone; then the two Colonels, SANCHO and CARLOS; after them, other Officers of the Army. VERAMOND advances to meet them; the Queen and the two Princesses follow him. ALPHONSO first kneels to his Father and Mother, and immediately runs to salute his Sister VICTORIA tenderly; then slightly salutes CELIDEA, and returns to VICTORIA. In the mean time VERAMOND embraces Don GARCIA, who afterwards kisses the Queen's hand.

Vera. The triumphs of this day, auspicious prince, Proclaim themselves your gift, to us and Arragon;

From you they are derived; to you return;
For what we are, you make us.

Gar. May heaven and your brave son, and, above all,

Your own prevailing genius, guard your age
From such another day of doubtful fate!
But if it come, then Garcia will be proud
To be again the foil of great Alphonso.

Vera. It might, and well it had become my son,
[Looking about for ALPHONSO.
To speak your words; but you are still before him,
As in the fight you were.

Xim. Turn to your father, and present your duty; [Pulling ALPHONSO by the sleeve. He thinks himself neglected, and observes ye. [Here GARCIA, after bowing to the King and Queen, goes to the two Princesses, and salutes them. After a little dumb courtship, he leads out VICTORIA and CELIDEA; the Ladies follow; ALPHONSO observes it with discontent, and then turns to his Father.

Alph. I saw you, sir, engaged in ceremonies, And therefore thought I might defer this office, To give you time for decent thanks to Garcia. Vera. You rather went where more affection called you.

Alph. I
may have been too slack in outward show
But when your service, and my honour called,
None was more forward in the fighting part.
Vera. The rugged business of the war is over;
Softness and sweetness, and a gentle air,

Would make a mixture, that would temper well
That inborn fierceness of your boiling mind.

Alph. I stand corrected, sir; and let me tell you

now,

That sweetness, which so well you have advised,
Fortune has put in your own hand to practise