From Romulus the rise of plays began,
To his new subjects a commodious man;
Who, his unmarried soldiers to supply,
Took care the commonwealth should multiply;
Providing Sabine women for his braves,
Like a true king, to get a race of slaves.
His playhouse, not of Parian marble made,
Nor was it spread with purple sails for shade;
The stage with rushes or with leaves they strew'd;1
No scenes in prospect, no machining god.
On rows of homely turf they sat to see,
Crown'd with the wreaths of ev'ry common tree.
There, while they sit in rustic majesty,
Each lover had his mistress in his eye;
And whom he saw most suiting to his mind,
For joys of matrimonial rape design'd.
Scarce could they wait the plaudit in their haste;
But ere the dances and the song were past,
The monarch gave the signal from his throne,2
And rising, bade his merry men fall on.
The martial crew, like soldiers, ready press'd,
Just at the word (the word too was the best),
With joyful cries each other animate;
Some choose, and some at hazard seize their mate.
As doves from eagles, or from wolves the lambs,
So from their lawless lovers fly the dames.
Their fear was one, but not one face of fear:
Some rend the lovely tresses of the hair:
Some shriek, and some are struck with dumb despair.
Her absent mother one invokes in vain;
One stands amaz'd, not daring to complain;
The nimbler trust their feet, the slow remain.
But nought availing, all are captives led,
Trembling and blushing, to the genial bed.
She who too long resisted or denied,
The lusty lover made by force a bride,
And with superior strength compell'd her to his side,
Then sooth'd her thus! "My soul's far better part,
Cease weeping, nor afflict thy tender heart;
For what thy father to thy mother was,
That faith to thee, that solemn vow I pass !
Thus Romulus became so popular;
This was the way to thrive in peace and war;
To pay his army, and fresh whores to bring:
Who wouldn't fight for such a gracious king!
Thus love in theatres did first improve,
And theatres are still the scene of love.
