This night a DOUGLAS your prote&tion claims ; And grant your suppliant all she begs, a tear. IN days of classic fame, when Persia's Lord Such proud pre-eminence not valour gave, Above the rest the Tragic Muse admir'd Each Attic breast with noblest passions fir'd. In peace their poets with their heroes shar'd Glory, the hero's, and the bard's reward. The Tragic Muse each glorious record kept, And, o'er the kings she conquer'd, Athens wept*. Here let me cease, impatient for the scene, To you I need not praise the Tragic Queen : Oft has this audience soft compassion shown To woes of heroes, heroes not their own. * See the PERSAI of Eschylus. This night our scenes no common tear demand, DOUGLAS, a name thro' all the world renown'd, A DOUGLAS follow'd thro' the bloody strife; Mark if the author's kindred feelings fail; DOUGLAS. ACT I. Scene 1. The Court of a Castle, surrounded with Woods. Enter Lady RANDOLPH. Lady Randolph. YB woods and wilds, whose melancholy gloom |