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 his 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 catcals 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 heads. 
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!

PERSONS OF THE DRAMA.

  MEN.

MAHOMET, Emperour of the Turks, Mr. BARRY.

CALI BASSA, First vizier, Mr. BERRY.

MUSTAPHA, A Turkish aga, Mr. SOWDEN.

ABDALLA, An officer, Mr. HAVARD.

HASAN, \ / Mr. USHER,
             Turkish captains,
CARAZA, / \ Mr. BURTON.

DEMETRIUS, \ / Mr. GARRICK,
             Greek noblemen,
LEONTIUS, / \ MR. BLAKES.

MURZA, An eunuch, Mr. KING.

WOMEN.

ASPASIA, \ / Mrs. GIBBER,
             Greek ladies,
IRENE, / \ Mrs. PRITCHARD.

Attendants on IRENE.

ACT I.—­SCENE I.

DEMETRIUS and LEONTIUS, in Turkish habits.

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

DEMETRIUS. 
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.

LEONTIUS. 
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 degen’rate man! 
Urg’d by th’ imperious soldiers’ fierce command,
The groaning Greeks break up their golden caverns,
Pregnant with stores, that India’s mines might envy,
Th’ accumulated wealth of toiling ages.