Before the play, to skirmish and to sc mi The beaux, she thinks, won't fail to do her New plays-ere acted, a full audience mete, '§ 24. Prologue to Love makes a Man; 1704. SINCE plays are but a kind of public feasts, You're certain to be pleas'd where errors are. Now, you that never know what spleen or hate Who for an act or two are welcome gratis, nunquam satis; The siege is laid-there gallant chiefs In the first act, brisk sallies (miss or hit, The third-feints, mines, and counterma found. The fourth-brings on most action, and sharp, [ Fresh foes crowd on. at your remiss The poet-governor now quakes for fest, siege, Were quickly tam'd-at Venlo, and at Is Twas Viva .agnia! Tira France! bt For your smart tastes we've toss'd you up a fop, But what your resolution can withsta Now, Quartier, Monsieur! Quartier! A§§• We hope the newest that 's of late come up; You master all, and awe the sea and h The fool, beau, wit, and rake so mix'd, he car-In war-your valour makes the strong He seems a ragout piping hot from Paris. [ries, Your judgment humbles all attempts a But for the softer sex, whom most we'd move; What play, what fort, what beauty car We've what the fair and chaste were form'd All fierce assaults, and always be secur Then grant 'em gen'rous terms who write, for-love: An artless passion, fraught with hopes and And nearest happy when it most despairs. To please all tastes, we'll do the best we can; Now, Sirs, you're welcome, and you know- But pray, in charity, the founder spare, $25. Prologue to The Twin Rivals; 1706. FARQUHAR. [An alarm sounded. WIT ITH drums and trumpets, in this warring age, A martial prologue should alarm the stage. Since now-that seems as desp'rate as may you share good claret with your masters, ill free in your amours from their disasters; ee from poor house-keeping, where peck is under locks; mons At Cupid's-gardens will her hours regale, Should I denounce our author's fate, to-day, 'Tis tattling all like Isaac Bickerstaff. Since war and places claim the bards that write, § 28. Prologue to The Man's bewitch'd; 1710. ee from cold kitchens, and no Christmas-box; may no long debates i' th' House of ComOUR female author trembling stands within, Her fear arises from another's sin; [mons; One of her sex has so abus'd the town, ake you i' th' lobby starve, when hunger sum- That on her score she dreads your angry frown; it may your plenteous vails come flowing in, Though I dare say, poor soul, she never writ ve you a lucky hit, and make you gentlemen: Lampoon, or satire, on the box or pit; ad, thus preferr'd, ne'er fear the world's re-A harmless hum'rous play is herextent of wit. proaches, it shake your elbows with my lord, and keep your coaches. 27. Prologue to The Busy Body; 1708. CENTLIVRE. HOUGH modern prophets were expos'd of e author could not prophesy his fate : Tho' Bickerstafi's vast genius may engage, or modern prophets, and for modern plays. true. adaunted colonels will to camps repair, peace, Il wars, except 'twist man and wife, at hardly will advance to lose his own. away. y city wives at Tunbridge will appear, Whose husbands long have wished for an heir; Where many a courtier may their wants relieve, 3nt by the waters only they conceive. The Fleet-street sempstress-toast of Temple sparks, [clerks, That runs spruce neckcloths for attorneys! $29. Epilogue to the same. Spoken by Mrs. Oldfield; 1710. CENTLIVRE. [4 Porter delivers a Letter, just as she is going to speak. WHAT's this? a billet doux! from hands unknown? My rain from this night commences, Lane: is For this the tragic muse first trod the stage, And then the pit's more stock'd with rakes and] [sparks, In short, I can't perceive, 'mongst all your [ing, As her dead father's rev'rend image pe The pomp was darken'd, and the day c The triumph ceas'd, tears gush'd from The world's great victor pass'd unheed Her last good man dejected Rome adot That swears he'll settle from his joys commenc-And honour'd Cæsar's less than Cato's And make the babe, the day he's born, an ensign. Nor, could I hear a titled beau, that steals From fasting spouse her matrimonial meals; That modiso sends next morn to her apartment A civil how dye-far, alas! from ta' heart micant: Then powder'd for th' ensuing day's delights, Britons, attend; be worth like this ap And shew you have the virtue to be n With honest score the first fam'd Cato " Rome learningarts from Greece, whom? Our scene precariously subsists too long On French translation, and Italian sor Dere to have sense yourselves; assert is Be justly warm'd with your own native Such plays alone should please a British As Cato's self had not disdain'd to near. $31. Prologue to Lady Jane Gray;" Row: TO-NIGHT the noblest subjectswells out Nor could I like the wretch that all night plays, [operas: He, 1 declare, shall my whole heart receive: Aud (what's more strange) I'll love him while 1 live. tender heart. Whose fortune's bound for the support of To you, fair judges, we the cause subm $30. Prologue to Cato; 1713. POPE. No guilty wish inflam'd her spotless breast, e only love that warm'd her blooming yonth, as husband, England, liberty, and truth. these she feil; while, with too weak a hand, e strove to save a blind ungrateful land. thus the secret laws of fate ordain, iliam's great hand was doom'd to break that chain, 4 end the hopes of Rome's tyrannic reign. rever as the circling years return, grateful Britous! crown the hero's urn; Epilogue to The Cruel Gift. Spoken by See how his looks his honest heart explain, $33. Epilogue to the Pseudolus of Plautus. I HAVE been peeping for these many days Nor, like Sir Martin Mar-all, still play'd on; Yet must we, though as foolish we decry TUL, 'twas a narrow 'scape my lover made-This mode, be fools in fashion, and comply; Ta cup and message-I was sore afraid! th a present for a new-made widow, in her dismal dacaps, like doleful Dido? en one pep'd in—and hop`d for something good, rwis-0 gid! a nasty heart and blood.* For rights, we know, howe'er absurdly gain'd So, I perceive, I've touch'd the ticklish place; $34. Epilogue to The Lying Valet; 1740. THAT I'm a lying rogue you all agree, e make good the jewels and the jointure, miss the heart does seldom disappoint her. in, for the fashion hearts of late are made in, y are the vilest bubles we can trade in. Here are the tough brave Britons to be found,That many more, my betters, lie as fast as me. th hearts of onk, so much of old renown'd? w many worthy gendemen of late re to be true to mother-church and state; en their false hearts were secretly maintaining Against this vice we are all ever railing, And yet, so tempting is it, so prevailing, You'll find but few without this useful failing. Lady or Abigail, my Lord or Will, The lie goes round, and the ball's never still. n trim king Pepin, at Avignon reigning? My lies were harmless, told to shew my parts, me on the canting crew of soul-insurers, And not like those, when tongues befie their at fy burn-tribe of speech-making nonjurors, In all professions you will find this flaw; [hearts. 10,in newfangled terms old truths explaining, And in the gravest too, in physic and in law. ich honest Englishmen damn'ddouble-mean- The gouty serjeant cries, with formal pause, ), would you lost integrity restore, [ing. Your plea is good, my friend, don't starve "the cause:" 1 boast that faith your plain forefathers bore; 66 at surer pattern can you hope to find [hind? But when my lord decrees for t'other side, an that dear pledge † your monarch left be- Your costs of suit convince you that he lied. This tragedy was founded upon the story of Sigismunda and Guiscardo, out of Boccace's novels; ` in the heart of the lover is sent by the father to his daughter, as a present. .e. Citron-water and good brandy. The Prince of Wales, then present. A doctor A doctor comes, with formal wig and face, First feels your pulse, then thinks, and knows your cise; No-with some nostrum I'd ensure my ins, Without the help of learning or degrees: [you; On drop or pill securely I'd rely, "Your ferer's slight, not dangerous, I assure "Keep warm, and repetatur haustus, Sir, will "care you." [ing: Around the bed, next day, his friends are cryThe patient dies; the doctor's paid for lying. The poet, willing to secure the pit, Gires out, his play has humour, taste and wit: The cause comes on, and while the judges try, Each groan and cat-call gives the bard the lic. Now let us ask, pray, what the ladies do: They too will fib a little, entre nous. [fan) Lord!" says the prude (her face behind her "How can our sex have any joy in man? [me; "As for my part, the best could ne'er deceive "And were the race extinct, 'twould never "grieve me! "Their sight is odious, but their touch, Ogad! "The thought of that's enough to drive one "inad." Thus rails at man the squeamish Lady Dainty, And shake my head at the whole faculty, Or would I take to orders Mus. Orders; how? Ign. One not too scrupulous a way ng Twere but the forging of a hand-or so. In orders too my purposes I'd serve; And if I cou'd not rise, I would not starre With lungs and face I'd make my butchers Or publish—that I'd marry at May-fair. These, these are maxims, that will stac Both universities are all a jest. Mus. I grant, a prodigy we sometimes Whom neither of our seats of learning Yet sure none shine more eminently a In law or physic, in the church or stat Than those who early drank the love ar At Cam's fair bank, or Isis' silver stream Look round-here's proof enough - . to clear. Ign. Bless me!-what!-not one Ign here? I stand convicted-what can I say See-my face fails, which never fail'd bee How great soe'er I seem in Dulman's e Yet Ignorance must blush--when Lean $36. Epilogue to Agamemnon. T A cleanly Dutchman, or a Frenchman grave,OUR Bard, to modern epilogue a foe. was true. Thinks such mean mirth but dead Dispels in idle air the moral sigh, [na And wipes the tender tear from pity's No more with social warmth the boso But all th' unfeeling, selfish man retur. Thus he began:-And you approv'd Till the next couplet sunk to light and You check'd him there-to you, to reas §35. Epilogue to Ignoramus, acted at West-He owns he triumph'd in your kind minster School in December 1747. Spoken by Ignoramus and Muscus, Ign. PEACE, bookworm! bless me what a clerk have I! A strange place sure this university! [will. Or, I could turn a journalist, and write With little wit, but large recruits of spite: Abuse and blacken-just as party swaysAnd lash my betters-these are thriving ways. My mind to graver physic would I bend, Think you I'd study Greek, like Mead or Friend? Charm'd by your frown, by your disp He hails the rising virtue of your taste. Wide will its influence spread, 25 known; Truth, to be lov'd, need only to be she $37. Prologue spoken by Mr. Garr WHEN Learning's triumph o'er her t foes First rear'd the Stage, immortal Shakspe Each change of many-colour'd life he Exhausted worlds, and then imagin'd |