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But this vile hour disperses all my store, And all hoard of honour is no more ; For ah! too partial to my life's decline, Cæsar persuades, submission must be mine; Him I obey, whom Heaven itself obeys, Hopeless of pleasing, yet inclin'd to please. Here then at once I welcome ev'ry shame, And cancel at threescore a life of fame;
children tell, The old buffoon will fit my name as well ; This day beyond its term my fate extends, For life is ended when our honour ends.
No more my
ZOBEIDE, A TRAGEDY.
In these bold times, when Learning's sons explore
Where are we driv'n? our reckoning sure is lost !
[Upper gallery. There mangroves spread, and larger than I've seen
[Pit. Here trees of stately size-and billing turtles in 'em
[Balconies. Here ill-condition'd
[Stage. And apples, bitter apples, strew the ground.
[Tasting them. The inhabitants are cannibals I fear : I heard a hissing—there are serpents here ! O, there the people are—
are-best keep my
distance ; Our captain (gentle natives) craves assistance ; Our ship’s well stor’d-in yonder creek we've laid her: His honour is no mercenary trader. This is his first adventure ; lend him aid, And we may chance to drive a thriving trade.
His goods, he hopes, are prime, and brought from far,
SPOKEN BY MR. LEE LEWES,
IN THE CHARACTER OF HARLEQUIN,
AT HIS BENEFIT.
HOLD! Prompter, hold ! a word before your non
I'd speak a word or two, to ease my conscience.
[Takes off his mask.