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How lov'd, how honour'd once, avails thee not,
To whom related, or by whom begot;

A heap of duft alone remains of thee,

'Tis all thou art, and all the proud fhall be! .

Poets themselves must fall like those they sung, 75 Deaf the prais'd ear, and mute the tuneful tongue. Ev'n he, whofe foul now melts in mournful lays, Shall fhortly want the gen'rous tear he pays; Then from his clofing eyes thy form shall part, And the last pang fhall tear thee from his heart, 80 Life's idle bufinefs at one gafp be o'er,

The Muse forgot, and thou belov'd no more!

PROLOGUE

то

Mr ADDISON'S Tragedy

OF

CATO.

To wake the foul by tender strokes of art,

To raise the genius, and to mend the heart, To make mankind, in confcious virtue bold, Live o'er each fcene, and be what they behold: For this the Tragic Muse first trod the stage, Commanding tears to ftream thro' ev'ry age; Tyrants no more their savage nature kept, And foes to virtue wonder'd how they wept. Our author fhuns by vulgar fprings to move The hero's glory, or the virgin's love; In pitying love, we but our weakness show, And wild Ambition well deferves its woe. Here tears shall flow from a more gen'rous cause, Such tears as Patriots fhed for dying Laws:

5

10

15

He bids your breafts with ancient ardour rise,
And calls forth Roman drops from British eyes.
Virtue confefs'd in human shape he draws,
What Plato thought, and godlike Cato was :
No common object to your fight displays,
But what with pleasure Heav'n itself surveys,
A brave man ftruggling in the storms of fate,
And greatly falling with a falling state.
While Cato gives his little Senate laws,
What bofom beats not in his Country's cause?
Who fees him act, but envies ev'ry deed?
Who hears him groan, and does not wish to bleed?
Ev'n when proud Cæfar 'midst triumphal cars,
The fpoils of nations, and the pomp of wars,
Ignobly vain and impotently great,

Show'd Rome her Cato's figure drawn in state;
As her dead Father's rev'rend image past,
The pomp was darken'd, and the day o'ercaft;
The Triumph ceas'd, tears gufh'd from ev'ry eye;
The world's great Victor pafs'd unheeded by;
Her laft good man dejected Rome ador'd
And honour'd Cæfar's lefs than Cato's fword.
Britons, attend: be worth like this approv❜d,
And show, you have the virtue to be mov'd.

NOTES.

20

25

30

35

VER. 20. But what with pleasure] This alludes to a famous paffage of Seneca, which Mr. Addison afterwards used as a motto to his play, when it was printed.

VER. 37. Britons, attend:] Mr. Pope had written it

With honeft fcorn the firft fam'd Cato view'd

Rome learning arts from Greece, whom she subdu'd; Your fcene precariously fubfifts too long

On French tranflation, and Italian fong.

Dare to have fenfe yourfelves; affert the ftage,
Be juftly warm'd with your own native rage:
Such Plays alone should win a British ear,
As Cato's felf had not difdain'd to hear.

NOTES.

41

45

arife, in the spirit of Poetry, and Liberty; but Mr. Addifon, frighten'd at fo daring an expreffion, which, he thought, fquinted at rebellion, would have it alter'd, in the fpirit of Profe and Politics, to attend.

VER. 26. As Cato's felf, etc.] This alludes to that famous ftory of his coming into the Theatre, and going out again.

EPILOGUE

то

Mr. RowE'S JANE SHORE.

Defign'd for Mrs. OLDFIELD.

PRodigious this! the Frail-one of our Play

From her own Sex fhould mercy find to-day;

You might have held the pretty head afide,
Peep'd in your fans, been ferious, thus, and cry'd,
The play may pass-but that strange creature, Shore,
I can't-indeed now-I fo hate a whore-
Juft as a blockhead rubs his thoughtless fkull,
And thanks his ftars he was not born a fool ;
So from a fifter finner you fhall hear,

6

"How ftrangely you expose yourself, my dear?" 10 But let me die, all raillery apart,

Our fex are still forgiving at their heart;
And, did not wicked cuftom fo contrive,

We'd be the beft, good-natur'd things alive.

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