Prologue.

The Old Bard finding it impossible To draw our Poet from the love of verse, And bury him in indolence, attempts By calumny to scare him from the stage; Pretending that in all his former plays The characters are low, and mean the style; Because he ne'er describ'd a mad-brain'd youth, Who in his fits of frenzy thought he saw A hind, the dogs in full cry after her; Her too imploring and beseeching him To give her aid. - But did he understand That, when the piece was first produc'd, it ow'd More to the actor than himself its safety, He would not be thus bold to give offense. - But if there's any one who says, or thinks, "That had not the Old Bard assail'd him first, Our Poet could not have devis'd a Prologue, Having no matter for abuse;" - let such Receive for answer, "that although the prize To all advent'rers is held out in common, The Veteran Poet meant to drive our Bard From study into want: He therefore chose To answer, though he would not first offend. And had his adversary but have prov'd A generous rival, he had had due praise; Let him then bear these censures, and reflect Of his own slanders 'tis the due return. But henceforth I shall cease to speak of him, Although he ceases not himself to rail." But now what I'd request of you, attend: To-day I bring a new play, which the Greeks Call Epidicazomenos; the Latins, From the chief character, name Phormio: Phormio, whom you will find a parasite, And the chief engine of the plot. - And now, If to our Poet you are well inclin'd, Give ear; be favorable; and be silent! Let us not meet the same ill fortune now That we before encounter'd, when our troop Was by a tumult driven from their place; To which the actor's merit, seconded By your good-will and candor, has restor'd us.