made to the audience, and supplies the want of
a chorus. But to speak in Monsieur Brumos's own stile: "If Homer,
in his Epic poem, found a Patroclus necessary to his Achilles, and
Virgil an Achates to Aeneas, such examples may well justify the
Dramatic Poets in calling in the assistance of associates, who
generally appear of more use than ornament to the piece." Besides,
were it not for them, long and disgusting soliloquies must be
innumerable, especially if there be any plot in the piece of
either love, ambition, or conspiracy. In short, as he again says,
"they are the mortar which forms the proper cement to fix the
corner stones of the building."

But I declare, that the avoiding on the one hand, a style too high,
as on the other, too mean and vulgar for the subject, or the persons
concerned therein, has been a talk far more difficult to me than
any of the best formed lines in either of my other Tragedies,
so that I tremble at the thought of the reception this may meet with;
and had it not been on account of the moral it inculcates, and the
solicitation of some of my friends, I never should have published it.

PROLOGUE,

By Mr. R. Lewis,

Author of the Candid Philosopher, &c. &c.

The Muse prolific of a Vet'ran Bard
Again brings forth;--but yet with labour hard.
Nor is it strange, that such a Muse feels pain,
When her child starts, like Pallas, from the brain,
Arm'd at all points; when bold, she dares engage,
With Truth's bright arms, the monsters of the age;
When with just aim she points keen Satire's dart,
And stabs the foul fiend GAMING to the heart.

Yet has our Bard, to simple Nature true,
Not brought up scenes of grandeur to your view;
Not sought by magic arts to strike your eyes,
Nor made the gods descend, or fiends arise:
His plan is humble, and his fable plain,
The town his scene, and artless is his strain:
Yet in that strain some lambent sparks still glow
Of that bright flame which shew'd Almeyda's woe,
Which far-fam'd Tamor's Siege so well display'd,
To fire each hero, and to charm each maid.

Attend, ye Fair and Brave!--Our daring Bard
Hopes in your smiles to meet his best reward.
And you, ye Critics! if to censure bent,
Think on this fact, and scorn the harsh intent;
Our Bard would fain discordant things unite,
As hard to reconcile as day and night:
He str