PROLOGUE. WRITTEN BY MR. DODSLEY, AND SPOKEN BY MR. HAVARD. THE Tragic Muse, revolving many a page Such drops adorn the noblest Hero's cheek, And paint his worth, in strokes that more than speak : Shews the great soul, and proves himself a Man. Yet do not idly grieve at others pain, Nor let the tears of nature fall in vain : Watch the close crimes from whence their ills have grown, And from their frailties learn to mend your own. THERE's something of magnificence about us POSTHUMIUS. True: Hither sent on former embassies, CURTIUS. [Gazes round. His pride presumes To treat us here like subjects, more than Romans, More than ambassadors, who, in our bosoms, Bear peace and war, and throw him which we please, As Jove his storm, or sunshine, on his creatures. POSTHUMIUS. This Philip only, since Rome's glory rose, Like a bold star, that shews its fires by day. The Greek, who won the world, was sent before him, |