again recollecting that the word _vulgar_
is never used as a singular substantive, he adopted the reading of
the text.
[t] Ver. 133--146.
[u] Ver. 147--167.

[Transcriber's note: There is no Footnote [v] or Footnote [w]]

[x] O'er love or _force_.
[y] Ver. 168--187.
[z] _And_ all the sons.
[aa] Ver. 188--288.
[bb] And _yield_.
[cc] An age that melts _in_.
[dd] _Could_ wish its end.
[ee] Ver. 289-345.
[ff] Ver. 346-366.
[gg]
Yet, _with_ the sense of sacred presence _press'd_,
_When_ strong devotion _fills thy glowing breast_.

[hh] _Thinks_ death.

PROLOGUE,

SPOKEN BY MR. GARRICK, AT THE OPENING OF THE
THEATRE-ROYAL, DRURY LANE, 1747.

When learning's triumph o'er her barb'rous foes
First rear'd the stage, immortal Shakespeare rose;
Each change of many-colour'd life he drew,
Exhausted worlds, and then imagin'd new:
Existence saw him spurn her bounded reign,
And panting time toil'd after him in vain:
His pow'rful strokes presiding truth impress'd,
And unresisted passion storm'd the breast.
Then Jonson came, instructed from the school
To please in method, and invent by rule;
His studious patience and laborious art,
By regular approach, assail'd the heart:
Cold approbation gave the ling'ring bays;
For those, who durst not censure, scarce could praise:
A mortal born, he met the gen'ral doom,
But left, like Egypt's kings, a lasting tomb.
The wits of Charles found easier ways to fame,
Nor wish'd for Jonson's art, or Shakespeare's flame:
Themselves they studied, as they felt, they writ;
Intrigue was plot, obscenity was wit;
Vice always found a sympathetick friend;
They pleas'd their age, and did not aim to mend.
Yet bards, like these, aspir'd to lasting praise,
And proudly hop'd to pimp in future days.
Their cause was gen'ral, their supports were strong;
Their slaves were willing, and their reign was long:
Till shame regain'd the post that sense betray'd,
And virtue call'd oblivion to her aid.
Then, crush'd by rules, and weaken'd, as refin'd,
For years the pow'r of tragedy declin'd;
From bard to bard the frigid caution crept,
Till declamation roar'd, while passion slept;
Yet still did virtue deign the stage to tread,
Philosophy remain'd, though nature fled.
But forced, at length, her ancient reign to quit,
She saw great Faustus lay the ghost of wit;
Exulting folly hail'd the joyful day,
And pantomime and song confirm'd her sway.
But who the coming changes can presage,