As to your Drinking—but for that we spare it,
Nor with your other vile Delights compare it,
There's fomething more than Sound, there's Senfe in Claret.
Mean while neglected Verfe, in long Disgrace,
Amongst your many Pleafures finds no Place;
The virtuous Laws of common Sense forfwearing,
You damn us like packt Furies, without hearing.
Each puny Whipster here, is Wit enough,
With fcornful Airs, and fupercilious Snuff,
To cry, This Tragedy's fuch damn'd grave Stuff.
But now we hope more equal Judges come,
Since Flanders fends the generous Warriors home:
You that have fought for Liberty and Laws,
Whofe Valour the proud Gallick Tyrant awes,
Foin to affert the finking Mufes Cause,
Since the fame Flame, by different Ways exprefs'd,
Glows in the Hero's and the Poet's Breaft;
The fame great Thoughts that roufe you to the Fight
Infpire the Mufe, and bid the Poet write.
Spoken by Mrs. Oldfield, who acted Ethelinda.
HE Business of the Day being now gone thro'
I quit the Saint, and am like one of you;
As well to look to, tho' not quite fo good;
I bate in Spirit, but keep my Flesh and Blood.
The Moral of this Play being rightly feann'd,
Is, He that leaves his nown dear Wife is damn’d.
I leave to you to make the Application:
The Doctrine, tho' a little out of Fashion,
May be of ufe in this fame finful Nation.
What think you of the Matter? Which of you
Would, for his Spouse, like my true Turtle do?
When Wealth and Beauty both at once importune,
Who would not leave his Wife, to make his Fortune?
To fome, I know, it may appear but odly,
That this Place, of all others, fhould turn godly:
But what of that? Since fome good Souls there are,
Would gladly be inftructed any where;
Nor should you fcorn the Weakness of the Teacher,
The Wifeft Man is not the ableft Preacher.
Ev'n we, poor Women, have sometimes the Pow'r,
Read as you are, and rich in Learning's Store,
To teach you Men what you ne'er knew before.
To no Enthufiaftick Rage we fwell,
Norfoam, nor act Tom Tumbler out of Zeal.
But tho' we dont pretend to Inspiration,
Yet, like the Prophets of a Neighbour Nation,
Our Teaching chiefly lyes in AGITATION.
Perhaps, indeed, fuch are your wandring Brains,
Our Author might have spar'd his Tragick Pains:
By that you've fupp'd, and are fet in to Drinking,
Some fweeter Matters will employ your Thinking;
With Nymphs Divine, writ on each Glass before ye,
You'll be but little better for our Story.
But fince the parting Hour, tho' late, will come,
And all of you, at least as I prefume,
May find fome kind, inftructive She at home,
Then Curtain Lectures will, I hope, be read,
Thofe Morals then, which from your Thoughts were fled,
Shall be put home to you, and taught a-bed,
Hengift, King of Kent, Son to
Hengift, the firft Saxon Invader Mr. Booth.
Rodogune, a Saxon Princefs, Sifter Mrs. Barry. to Offa, betrothed to the King. S
Ethelinda, a British Lady, pri- Mrs. Oldfield. vately marry'd to Aribert.
Priefts, Officers, Soldiers, and other Attendants.
SCENE in Kent, about Twenty Tears after the firft Invasion of Britain by the Saxons.
UCH are, my Friend, the Joys our Loves
So ftill to be defir'd, fo ever new,
Nor by Fruition pall'd, nor chang'd by Ab fence.
Whate'er the Poets dreamt of their Elyfium,
Or what the Saints believe of the firft Paradife,
When Nature was not yet deform'd by Winter,
But one perpetual Beauty crown'd the Year,
Such have we found 'em ftill, ftill, still the fame.
Of. Such grant, kind Heaven, their Course to be for
|