Unaw'd by pow'r, and unappal'd by fear, PROLOGUE TO THE TRAGEDY OF ZOBEIDE. IN these bold times, when learning's sons explore And quit for Venus many a brighter here; With Scythian stores and trinkets deeply laden, To make an observation on the shore. Where are we driven? our reck'ning sure is lost! This seems a rocky and a dangerous coast. N Lord! what a sultry climate am I under! Yon ill-foreboding cloud seems big with thunder: [Upper gallery. There mangroves spread, and larger than I've seen 'em [Pit. Here trees of stately size-and billing turtles in 'em Here ill-condition'd oranges abound— [Balconies. [Stage. [Tasting them. And apples, bitter apples, strew the ground: Th' inhabitants are cannibals I fear: I heard a hissing-there are serpents here! Our ship's well stor❜d-in yonder creek we've laid her, His honour is no mercenary trader. This is his first adventure; lend him aid, And we may chance to drive a thriving trade. His goods, he hopes, are prime, and brought from far, Equally fit for gallantry and war. What, no reply to promises so ample? -I'd best step back-and order up a sample. EPILOGU E, SPOKEN BY MR. LEE LEWES, IN THE CHARACTER OF HARLEQUIN, AT HIS BENEFIT HOLD! prompter, hold! a word before your non sense; I'd speak a word or two to ease my conscience. [Takes off his mask. Whence, and what art thou, visionary birth? In thy black aspect ev'ry passion sleeps, The joy that dimples, and the woe that weeps. Aye, 'twas but a dream, for now there's no retreat ing; If I cease Harlequin, I cease from eating. 'Twas thus that Æsop's stag, a creature blameless, Yet something vain, like one that shall be nameless, 1 |