PROLOGUE TO‘ ZOBEIDE’

IN these bold times, when Learning's sons explore

The distant climate and the savage shore;

When wise Astronomers to India steer,

And quit for Venus, many a brighter here;

While Botanists, all cold to smiles and dimpling,

Forsake the fair, and patiently — go simpling;

When every bosom swells with wond'rous scenes,

Priests, cannibals, and hoity-toity queens:

Our bard into the general spirit enters,

And fits his little frigate for adventures:

With Scythian stores, and trinkets deeply laden,

He this way steers his course, in hopes of trading —

Yet ere he lands he‘ as ordered me before,

To make an observation on the shore.

Where are we driven? our reck'ning sure is lost!

This seems a barren and a dangerous coast.

What a sultry climate am I under!

Yon ill foreboding cloud seems big with thunder.

There Mangroves spread, and larger than I've seen‘ em —

Here trees of stately size — and turtles in‘ em —

Here ill-condition'd oranges abound —

And apples (‘ takes up one and tastes it’ ),

Bitter apples strew the ground.

The place is uninhabited, I fear!

I heard a hissing — there are serpents here!

O there the natives are — a dreadful race!

The men have tails, the women paint the face!

No doubt they're all barbarians. — Yes,‘ tis so,

I'll try to make palaver with them though;

‘ Tis best, however, keeping at a distance.

Good Savages, our Captain 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,

Or you may chance to spoil a thriving trade.

His goods, he hopes are prime, and brought from far,

Equally fit for gallantry and war.

What! no reply to promises so ample?

I'd best step back — and order up a sample.