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LoNG has thefate of kings and empires been
The common bus'ness of the tragic scene,
As if misfortune made the throne her seat, -
And none could be unhappy, but the great.
Dearly, 'tis true, each buys the crown he wears,
And many are the mighty monarch's cares:
By foreign foes and home-bred failions prest,
Few are the joys he knows, and short his hours of rest,
Stories like these with wonder we may hear;
But far remote, and in a higher sphere,
We ne'er can pity what we ne'er can share:
Like distant battles of the Pole and Swede,
Which frugal citizens o'er coffee read,
Careless for who should fall or who succeed.
Therefore an humbler theme our author chose,
A melancholy tale of private woes:
No princes here lost royalty bemoan,
But you shall meet with sorrows like your own:
Here see imperious love his vassals treat
As hardly as ambition does the great ;
See how succeeding passions rage by turns,
How fierce the youth with joy and rapture burns,
And how to death, for beauty lost, he mourns.
Let no nice taste the poet’s art arraign, If some frail vicious characiers he feign : Who writes, should still let nature be his care, Mix shades with lights, and not paint all things fair, But shew you men and women as they are. With deforence to the fair, he lade me say, Few to perfection ever found the way: Many in many parts are known to excel, But ’twere too hard for one to ači all well; Whom justly life would through each scene commend, The maid, the wife, the mistress, and the friend; This age, ’tis true, has one great instance seen, And Heav'n, in justice, made that one a queen.
Sciotto, a nobleman of Genoa - - - Mr. Aickin.
ALTAMoNT, a young lord, in love with
Calista - " - - - Mr. Barrymore.
HoR At 10, his friend - - - Mr. Bensley.
Loth AR 10, a young lord and enemy to Al-
tamont - - - - Mr. Palmer.
Ross ANo, his friend - - - - Mr. Williames.
CAL 1st A, daughter to Scioto - - - Mrs. Siddons.
LAv1N1A, sister to Altamont, and wife
to Horatio - - - - - Mrs. Ward.
LucIl LA, confident to Calista - - Miss Palmer.
Sciotto, a nobleman of Genoa - -, Mr. Aickin.
ALTAMont, a young lord, in love with
Calista - - - - - Mr. Farren.
Hor ATIo, his friend , , - - Mr. Harley.
Lotha Rio, a young lord, and enemy to Al-
tamont - - - - Mr. Holman.
Ross ANo, his friend - - - - Mr. Evatt.
CAL 1st A, daughter to Sciolto - - Miss Brunton.
LAvi N1A, sister to Altamont, and wife to
- - Miss Stuart.
Lucilla, confident to Calista
Servants to Sciolto.
Sce NE, Sciolto's palace and garden, with some part of the street
near it, in Genoa.
A garden belonging to SCIO LTO’s palace. Enter ALTAMon T and HoRATIo.
Let this auspicious day be ever sacred,
No mourning, no misfortunes happen on it :
Let it be mark’d for triumphs and rejoicings;
Let happy lovers ever make it holy,
Choose it to bless their hopes, and crown their wishes,
This happy day, that gives me my Calista.
Hor. Yes, Altamont; to-day thy better stars
Are join'd to shed their kindest influence on thee;
Sciolto’s noble hand that rais'd thee first,
Half dead and drooping o'er thy father's grave,
Completes it's bounty, and resto, es thy name
To that high rank and lustre which it boasted,
Before nngrateful Genoa had forgot
The merit of thy god-like father's arms;
Before that country, which he long had serv'd
In watchful councils, and in winter-camps,
Had cast off his white age to want and wretchedness,
And made their court to faction by his ruin.
Alt. Oh, great Sciolto Oh, my more than father 1
Let me not live, but at thy very name, - 2O
My eager heart springs up, and leaps with joy.
When I forget the vast, vast debt I owe thee—
Forget 1 (but 'tis impossible) then let me -
Forget the use and privilege of reason,
Be driven from the commerce of mankind,
To wander in the desert among brutes,
“To bear the various fury of the seasons,
“The night's unwholsome dew and noon-day's heat,”
To be the scorir of earth and curse of Heav'n I
Hor. So open, so unbounded was his goodness,
It reach'd ev'n me, because I was thy friend.
When that great man I lov'd, thy noble father,
Bequeath'd thy gentle sister to my arms,
His last dear pledge and legacy of friendship,
That happy tie made me Sciolto's son ;
He call'd us his, and, with a parent's fondness,
Indulg'd us in his wealth, bless'd us with plenty,
Heal’d all our cares, and sweeten’d love itself.
Alt. By Heav'n he found my fortunes so abandon'd,
That nothing but a miracle could raise 'em : 49
My father's bounty, and the state's ingratitude,
Had stripp'd him bare, nor left him ev’n a grave.
Undone myself and sinking with his ruin,
I had no wealth to bring, nothing to succour him,
But fruitless tears.
Hor. Yet what thou could'st, thou didst,
And didst it like a son ; when his hard creditors, *