St. Hermo, St. Hermo, that sits upon the Phillis. Shall I Marry the Man I love? And shall I conclude my Pains? Now blest be the Powers above, I feel the Blood bound in my Veins; With a lively Leap it began to move, And the Vapours leave my Brains. Amyntas. Body join'd to Body, and IIcart join'd to Heart; To make sure of the Cure ; Go call the Man in Black, to mumble o're his part. Phillis. But suppose he should stay... Amyntas. At worst, if he delay; 'Tis a Work must be done; We'll borrow but a Day, And the better the sooner begun. CHORUS of Both. Keepers; run to each other, At worst, if he delay, &c. and embrace.] [They run out together hand in hand. PROLOGUES AND EPILOGUES. PROLOGUE AND EPILOGUE TO THE WILD GALLANT. PROLOGUE. Is it not strange to hear a Poet say, And cruel Factions (brib'd by Interest) come, Has sent me whither you, Fair ladies, too Sometimes upon as small Occasions goe, 10 And from this Scheme, drawn for the Hour and Day, Bid me inquire the Fortune of his Play. SONG OF A SCHOLAR, ETC. 13 Hermo never] Hermo, Never 1700. 20 Charis] Charm 1700. 2 Ast. The Luck not very good, nor very ill; Venus, the Lady of that House, I find Or at the least a Dance of 3 hours long. The twelfth Apartment bears the Lord of 40 Whence I conclude, it is your Author's Lot, But bribes you not with any thing that's new. Nature is old, which Poets imitate; estate Forget Fletcher and Ben before them went, Their Elder Brothers, and that vastly spent: So much, 'twill hardly be repair'd again, Not though supply'd with all the wealth of Spain. 50 This Play is English, and the growth your own; As such it yields to English Plays alone. But that in Plays he finds you love Mis- Besides, he thought it was in vain to mend PROLOGUE TO THE RIVAL LADIES. 'Tis much desir'd, you Judges of the Town | For the reforming Poets of our Age In this first Charge spend their poetique They e'r converted one hard-harted Wit? THE RIVAL. Ladies, 1664. rage. Expect no more when once the Prologue's done; The wit is ended ere the Play's begun. High Language often, ay, and Sense some- As for a clear Contrivance, doubt it not; They blow out Candles to give Light to th' Plot. And for Surprize, two Bloody-minded Men Fight till they dye, then rise and dance again. Such deep Intrigues you're welcome to this Day: But blame your Selves, not him who writ the Play. Though his Plot's dull as can be well desir'd, Wit stiff as any you have e'r admir'd, 20 He's bound to please, not to write well, and knows There is a mode in Playes as well as Cloaths; Therefore, kind Judges- A Second Prologue enters. Hold! would you admit For Judges all you see within the Pit? 2. EPILOGUE. Spoken by a Mercury. To all and singular in this full Meeting, Ladies and Gallants, Phœbus sends me greeting. To all his Sons, by whate'er Title known, Is plac'd in lofty Sound and humble Sense, Be't known, that Phoebus (being daily griev'd THE INDIAN EMPEROR, 1665. Prologue 7-9. To see good Fiays condemn'd and bad These lines are not in all copies. spoke] spoke, 1665. receiv'd) Ordains your Judgment upon every Cause Henceforth be limited by wholesome Laws. He first thinks fit no Sonnetteer advance His Censure farther than the Song or Dance. Your Wit burlesque may one Step higher climb, And in his Sphere may judge all dogrel Rhyme; All proves, and moves, and loves, and honours too; All that appears high Sense, and scarce is low. 21 As for the Coffee-wits, he says not much; For Love and he long since have thought it fit, Wit live by Beauty, Beauty reign by Wit. PROLOGUE TO SECRET LOVE, OR THE MAIDEN QUEEN. SECOND PROLOGUE. I had forgot one half, I do protest, They are excepted all, as men of blood; And the same Law should shield him from their fury, 30 Which has excluded Butchers from a Jury. You'd all be Wits But writing's tedious, and that way may fail; The most compendious Method is to rail; Which you so like, you think your selves ill us'd, When in smart Prologues you are not abus'd, 6 with Corneilles] Bell wrongly inserted old between these words. He grows to break Glass-Windows in the end: Our unfletch'd Author writ a Wild Gallant. Because suspected with his Landlords Wife; You balk'd him when he was a young And almost spoyl'd a very hopeful Sinner; But if once more you slight his weak indeavour, For ought I know, he may turn taile for ever. THE WILD Gallant, revived, 1667. Prologue, 14 unfletch'd] The editors give unfledged EPILOGUE. Of all Dramatique Writing, Comick Wit, Humour is that which every Day we meet, You all can point, 'twas there he lost his Way, But what's so common to make pleasant too, Is more than any Wit can always do. For 'tis, like Turkes with Hen and Rice to treat, To make Regalio's out of common Meat. But, in your Diet, you grow Salvages: Nothing but humane Flesh your Taste can please; And as their Feasts with slaughter'd Slaves began, So you, at each new Play, must have a Man. Hither you come, as to see Prizes fought; If no Blood's drawn, you cry, the Prize is naught. But Fooles grow wary now; and, when they |