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PROLOGUE TO ZOBEIDE:

A TRAGEDY ; WRITTEN BY JOSEPI CRADDOCK, ESQ.

Spoken by Mr. Quick, in the Character of a Sailor."
In these bold times, when Learning's sons explore
The distant climate, and the savage shore;
When wise astronomers to India steer,
And quit for Venus many a brighter here;t
While botanists, all cold to smiles and dimpling,
Forsake the fair, and patiently-go simpling;
Our bard into the general spirit enters,
And fits his little frigate for adventures.
With Scythian storcs, and trinkets deeply laden,
He this way steers his course in hopes of trading-
Yet ere he lands he's order'd me before,
To make an observation on the shore.
Where are we driven ? our reckoning sure is lost !
This seems a rocky and a dangerous coast.
Lord, what a sultry climate am I under!
Yon ill-foreboding cloud seems big with thunder.

[Upper Gallery. * (Zobeide was first represented at Covent Garden on the 10th of December 17"1, and was well received. Goldsmith appears to have first met Mr. Craadock at the house of Mr. Yates, the actor. Being applied to for a prologue through the medium of the Yateses, the husband being to speak it (though Quick was afterwards deputed to this duty), and the wife to perform in the play, sent the above to the author, accompanied by the following note: —“Mr. Goldsmith presents his best respects to Mr. Craddock; has sent him the prologue, such as it is. He cannot take time to make it better. he will give Mr. Yates the proper instructions; and so, even so, he commits him to fortune and the public."-See Life, ch. xxi.)

+ [In allusion to Captain Cook's voyage for the purpose of observing the transit of Venus.

(Alluding to Sir Joseph Banks's participation in the same voyage.]

He begs

There mangroves spread, and larger than I've seen 'em

[Pit. Here trees of stately size—and billing turtles in 'em

[Balconies Here ill-conditioned oranges abound

[Stage.
And apples, bitter apples, strew the ground. [ Tasting them.
The inhabitants are cannibals, I fear :
I heard a hissing—there are serpents here !
O, there the people are—best keep my distance;
Our captain, gentle natives! craves assistance;
Our ship's well-stored ;-in yonder creek we've laid her;
His honor 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.

AN EPILOGUE,

INTENDED FOR

MRS. BULKLEY.

There is a place, so Ariosto sings,
A treasury for lost and missing things :

* Mr. Craddock had given his right to any profits that might accrue from the representation to Mrs. Yates, who greatly distinguished herself in the part of Zobeide.]

+ (Presented in MS., among other papers, to Dr. Percy, by the Poet ; but for what play intended has not been ascertained. It appears, however, by the

VOL IV.

Lost human wits have places there assign'd them,
And they who lose their senses,

there
may

find them.
But where's this place, this storehouse of the age ?
The Moon, says he ;-but I affirm, the Stage:
At least in many things, I think, I see
His lunar, and our mimic world agree.
Both shine at night, for, but at Foote's alone,
We

e scarce exhibit till the sun goes down.
Both prone to change, no settled limits fix,
And sure the folks of both are lunatics.
But in this parallel my best pretence is,
That mortals visit both to find their senses ;
To this strange spot, rakes, macaronis, cits,
Come thronging to collect their scatter'd wits.
The gay coquette, who ogles all the day,
Comes here at night, and goes a prude away.
Hither the affected city dame advancing,
Who sighs for operas, and dotes on dancing,
Taught by our art, her ridicule to pause on,
Quits the ballet, and calls for Nancy Dawson.
The gamester too, whose wit's all high or low,
Oft risks his fortune on one desperate throw,
Comes here to saunter, having made his bets,
Finds his lost senses out, and pays his debts.
The Mohawk too—with angry phrases stor’d,
As “ Dam'me, Sir,” and “ Sir, I wear a sword;"
Here lesson'd for a while, and hence retreating,
Goes out, affronts his man, and takes a beating.

concluding lines, that it was not a sentimental comedy, but of the school which Goldsmith adopted, and praised by the line

“ Still stoops among the low to copy nature."

Here come the sons of scandal and of news,
But find no sense--for they had none to lose.
Of all the tribe here wanting an adviser,
Our Author's the least likely to grow wiser;
Has he not seen how you your favor place,
On sentimental queens and lords in lace?
Without a star, a coronet, or garter,
How can the piece expect or hope for quarter?
No high-life scenes, no sentiment: the creature
Still stoops among the low to copy nature.
Yes, he's far gone :--and yet some pity fix,
The English laws forbid to punish lunatics.

THRENODIA AUGUSTALIS;*

SACRED TO THE MEMORY OF

HER ROYAL HIGHNESS THE PRINCESS DOWAGER OF WALES.

ADVERTISEMENT.

The following may more properly be termed a compilation than a poem. It was prepared for the composer in little more than two days; and may therefore rather be considered as an industrious effort of gratitude than of genius. In justice to the composer it may likewise be right to inform the public, that the music was composed in a period of time equally short.

OVERTURE.—A solemn Dirge.

Air-Trio.

Arise, ye sons of worth, arise,

And waken every note of woe !
When truth and virtue reach the skies,

'Tis ours to weep the want below.

Chorus.

When truth and virtue, &c.

* (Printed from the copy belonging to Mr. Isaac Reed, who has written on the title-page : “ This poem was written, or, as he says, compiled by Dr. Oliver Goldsmith. It is very scarce, and ought to be in his works” It was performed in the Great Room, Soho Square, the 20th February 1772. The composer was Signor Vento; the speakers Mr. Lee and Mrs. Bellamy; and the singers Mr. Champness, Mr Dine, and Mrs. Jameson -See Life, ch. xxi.]

+ [Daughter of Frederick II., Duke of Saxe Gotha, and mother of King George III.]

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