THE sons of genius search, thro' every age,
For proper heroes to adorn the stage:
Here Greeks and Romans rise again to view,
Again fight bravely, and their fame renew.
The great unshaken Cato here you see,
And Cæsar falls for English liberty.
No standard-virtue ripen'd yet on earth,
But
you behold it in a second birth;
To strike, impress-impel the vigorous mind,
And give ye all the boasts of all mankind.
Such spurs to glory-if they glory raise, Deserve protection-nay, demand your praise.
Our Bard to night, no doubtful story brings,
Of native, genuine English feats he sings:
Here no false varnish glitters to surprise,
But just historic truths in order rise;
And sure that tale must have for Britons charms,
That shews you France subdued by British arms:
Our lions traversing their ravag'd plains,
Their armies broken, and their king in chains.
Our Poet fir'd by England's ancient fame, (And humbly aiming at great Shakspere's flame!)
On candour's judgment bids his hopes repose,
Alike disdaining partial friends and foes.
If his warm glow excites a patriot-zeal,
If from your eyes soft drops of pity steal;
If fears, hopes, sorrows, rise with varied art,
And by the hand of nature touch the heart;
There let him reign- -Be there his power confest,
And generous judges will o'erlook the rest!
With the humane and the exalted mind,
The absent and the dead, indulgence find.
Know then a parent breathing foreign air,
This night commits his darling to your care.
No faction's form'd to prostitute applause,
No art, no interest, to support his cause:
The public honour 'tis his pride to trust,
Nor can he think your voice will be unjust.
Attentive hear, unprejudic'd explore,
And judge like Englishmen—he asks no more.
EDWARD, PRINCE OF WALES, commonly Mr. Kemble.
MARIANA, Charney's Daughter, prisoner Miss E. Kemble. in the English Camp
Nobles, Officers, Soldiers, and Attendants.
SCENE, the English and French Camps, on and near the Plains of Poitiers in France.
The PRINCE of WALES'S Tent. Prince EDWARD discovered seated, WARWICK, SALISBURY, AUDLEY, CHANDOs, and others standing.
My lords, I summon'd ye in haste to council
Intelligence is brought me that our foes
Have levied to oppose us, such a strength
As almost staggers credibility!
What's to be done? To tarry longer here,
And brave their fury in the heart of France,
Would be a rashness that may hazard all.
Consider therefore well, my fellow-warriors,
And aid my judgment with your good advice.
Speak, Warwick, your opinion.
It is for marching back, with speed, to Bourdeaux.
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