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Show TH LABECO [ - PROLOGU TH T A WOR B COMED T TH O WISE DR. JOHNSON Turs night presents a play, which public rage Or right, or wrang, once hooted from the stage From zeal or malice now no more we dread For English véngeance wars not with the dead A gen'rous foe regards with pitying ey fate has laid, where all must lie The man, who To wit reviving from its author's dust Be kind, ye judges, or at least be just For no renew'd hostilities invad Th' oblivious grave's inviolable shade Let one great payment ev'ry claim appease And him, who cannot hurt, allow to please |