and decorated, at an extraordinary expence:----and inimitably
perform'd in all its parts, by Betterton, Booth, Barry, and Oldfield.
Yet it brought but few, and slender audiences.----To say truth,
'twas a fine Poem; but not an extraordinary Play. Notwithstanding the
intrinsic merit of this piece, and the countenance it met with from
the most ingenious men of the age, yet it languished on the stage,
and was soon neglected. Mr. Addison wrote the Prologue, in which he
rallies the vitiated taste of the public, in preferring the unideal
entertainment of an Opera, to the genuine sense of a British Poet.

The PROLOGUE.

Long has a race of Heroes fill'd the stage,
That rant by note, and thro' the gamut rage;
In songs, and airs, express their martial fire,
Combat in trills, and in a feuge expire;
While lull'd by sound, and undisturb'd by wit,
Calm and serene, you indolently fit;
And from the dull fatigue of thinking free,
Hear the facetious fiddle's rapartee;
Our home-spun authors must forsake the field,
And Shakespear to the soft Scarlatti yield.
To your new taste, the poet of this day,
Was by a friend advis'd to form his play;
Had Valentini musically coy,
Shun'd Phaedra's arms, and scorn'd the proffer'd joy,
It had not mov'd your wonder to have seen,
An Eunuch fly from an enamour'd queen.
How would it please, should me in English speak,
And could Hippolitus reply in Greek?

We have been induced to transcribe these lines of Mr. Addison, in
order to have the pleasure of producing so great an authority in
favour of the English drama, when placed in contradistinction to an
entertainment, exhibited by Eunuchs and Fidlers, in a language, of
which the greatest part of the audience are ignorant; and from the
nature of which no moral instruction can be drawn.

The chief excellence of this play certainly consists in the beauty and
harmony of the verification. The language is luxuriantly poetical. The
passion of Phaedra for her husband's son has been considered by some
critics as too unnatural to be shewn on the stage; and they have
observed that the poet would have written more successfully if he
had converted the son into a brother. Poetical justice is carefully
distributed; Phaedra and Lycon are justly made the sufferers, while
Hippolitus and Ismena escape the vengeance of Theseus. The play is not
destitute of the pathetic, tho' much more regard is paid to the purity
and elegance of t