Notwithstanding the excellence of this tragedy, it appears to have been endured, rather than applauded, at its first representation; although, being judiciously curtailed, it soon became a great favourite with the public[3]; and, omitting the comic scenes, may be again brought forward with advantage, when the public shall be tired of children and of show.  The tragedy of “Don Sebastian” was acted and printed in 1690.

Footnotes: 
1.  “The Battle of Alcazar, with Captain Stukely’s death, acted by the
   Lord High Admiral’s servants, 1594,” 4to.  Baker thinks Dryden might
   have taken the hint of “Don Sebastian” from this old play. 
   Shakespeare drew from it some of the bouncing rants of Pistol, as,
  “Feed, and be fat; my fair Callipolis,” &c.

2.  In a Zambra dance, introduced in the “Conquest of Granada,” our
   author had previously introduced the Moors bowing to the image of
   Jupiter; a gross solecism, hardly more pardonable, as Langbaine
   remarks, than the introduction of a pistol in the hand of
   Demetrius, a successor of Alexander the Great, which Dryden has
   justly censured.

3.  Langbaine says, it was acted “with great applause;” but this must
   refer to its reception after the first night; for the author’s own
   expressions, that “the audience endured it with much patience, and
   were weary with much good nature and silence,” exclude the idea of
   a brilliant reception on the first representation.  See the
   beginning of the Preface.

TO

THE RIGHT HONOURABLE

PHILIP,

EARL OF LEICESTER, &c.[1]

Far be it from me, my most noble lord, to think, that any thing which my meanness can produce, should be worthy to be offered to your patronage; or that aught which I can say of you should recommend you farther to the esteem of good men in this present age, or to the veneration which will certainly be paid you by posterity.  On the other side, I must acknowledge it a great presumption in me, to make you this address; and so much the greater, because by the common suffrage even of contrary parties, you have been always regarded as one of the first persons of the age, and yet not one writer has dared to tell you so; whether we have been all conscious to ourselves that it was a needless labour to give this notice to mankind, as all men are ashamed to tell stale news; or that we were justly diffident of our own performances, as even Cicero is observed to be in awe when he writes to Atticus; where, knowing himself over-matched in good sense, and truth of knowledge, he drops the gaudy train of words, and is no longer the vain-glorious orator.  From whatever reason it may be, I am the first bold offender of this kind:  I have broken down the fence, and ventured into the holy grove.  How I may be punished for my profane attempt, I know not; but I wish it may not be of ill omen to your lordship: