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Ye glittring train, whom lace and velvet bless,
Suspend the soft solicitudes of dress!
From grov'ling business and superfluous care,
Ye sons of Avarice, a moment spare !
Vot'ries of Fame, and worshippers of Power
Dismiss the pleasing phantoms for an hour !
Our daring bard, with spirit unconfin’d,
Spreads wide the mighty moral for mankind.
Learn here how Heav'n supports the virtuous mind,
Daring, though calm; and vig’rous, though resign'de
Learn here what anguish racks the guilty breast,
In pow'r dependent, in success deprest.
Learn here that Peace from Innocence must flow;
All else is empty sound and idle show.

If truths like these with pleasing language join;
Ennobled, yet unchang'd, if Nature shine;
If no wild draught depart from Reason's rules,
Nor gods bis heroes, nor his lovers fools :
Intriguing Wits! his artless plot forgive;
And spare him, Beauties! though his lovers live.

Be this at least his praise, be this his pride ;
To force applause no modern arts are try'd.
Should partial cat-calls all his hopes confound,
He bids no trumpet quell the fatal sound.
Should welcome sleep relieve the weary wit,
He rolls no thunders o'er the drowsy pit.
No snares to captivate the judgment spreads,
Nor bribes your eyes to prejudice your beads.
Unmov'd though Witlings sneer and Rivals rail;
Studious to please, yet not asham'd to fail.
He scorns the meek address, the suppliant strain,
With merit needless, and without it vain.
In Reason, Nature, Truth, he dares to trust:
Ye Fops, be silent: and ye Wits, be just!



MEN. MAHOMET, Emp. of the Turks, Mr. Barry. Cali Bassa, First Visier,

Mr. Berry. MUSTAPHA, A Turkish Aga

Mr. Sowden. ABDALLA, An Officer,

Mr. Havard.
Turkish Captains. Mr. Burton.

S Mr. Usker.
DEMETRIUS, Greek Noblemen,

Mr. Garrick. LEONTIUS,

Mr. Blakes, MURZA, An Eunuch,

Mr. King


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SCENE I. DEMETRIUS and LEONTIUS, in Turkish Habita

Ayd is it thus Demetrius meets his friend,
Hid in the inean disguise of Turkish robes,
With servile secrecy to lurk in shades,
And vent our suff'rings in clandestine groans ?

Till breathless fury rested from destruction,
These groans, were fatal, these disguises vain;
But now our Turkish conquerors have quench'd
Their rage, and pall’d their appetite of murder ;
No more the glutted sabre thirsts for blood,
And weary cruelty remits her tortures.

Yet Greece enjoys no gleam of transient hope,
No soothing interval of peaceful sorrow;
The lust of gold succeeds the rage of conquest,
The lust of gold, unfeeling and remorseless,
The last corruption of degenerate man!
Urg'd by the imperious soldier's fierce command,
The groaning Greeks break up their golden caverns

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