PROLOGUE AND EPILOGUE TO ALL FOR LOVE, OR THE WORLD WELL LOST. PROLOGUE. WHAT Flocks of Critiques hover here to-day,) As Vultures wait on Armies for their Prey, All gaping for the Carcase of a Play!) With croaking Notes they bode some dire event, And follow dying Poets by the scent. Ours gives himself for gone; y' have watch'd your Time; He fights this day unarm'd, without his Rhyme, And brings a Tale which often has been told, As sad as Dido's, and almost as old. His Heroe, whom you Wits his Bully call, 10 Bates of his Mettle, and scarce rants at all; He's somewhat lewd, but a well-meaning mind, Weeps much, fights little, but is wondrous kind; In short, a Pattern and Companion fit Both (to be plain) too good for most of you; The Wife well-natur'd, and the Mistress A brave Man scorns day, to quarrel once a Like Hectors in at ev'ry petty fray. Let those find fault whose Wit's so very small, They've need to show that they can think at all. Errors, like Straws, upon the surface flow; He who would search for Pearls must dive below. Fops may have leave to level all they can, As Pigmies wou'd be glad to lop a Man. Half-wits are Fleas, so little and so light, We scarce cou'd know they live, but that they bite. 30 But, as the rich, when tir'd with daily Feasts, For Change become their next poor Tenants Ghests; Drink hearty Draughts of Ale from plain brown Bowls, And snatch the homely Rasher from the Coals: So you, retiring from much better Cheer, For once may venture to do penance here. And since that plenteous Autumn now is For our poor Wretch, he neither rails nor prays, Nor likes your Wit just as you like his Plays; Yet if some antiquated Lady say, Which only has the wrinkles of a Judge. For shou'd you raise such numerous Hosts of Foes, Young Wits and Sparks he to his aid must call; 30 'Tis more than one Man's work to please you all. EPILOGUE TO MITHRIDATES, KING OF PONTUS. YOU'VE seen a Pair of faithful Lovers die: And much you care, for most of you will cry, 'Twas a just Judgment on their Constancy. For, Heaven be thank'd, we live in such an Age, When no man dies for Love, but on the Stage: And ev'n those Martyrs are but rare in Plays; A cursed sign how much true Faith decays: Love is no more a violent desire; MITHRIDATES, 1678. The play is by Lee. 10 PROLOGUE AND EPILOGUE TO THE KIND KEEPER, Let them, who the Rebellion first began But drive away that Swarm with such a That not one Locust may be left behind! EPILOGUE. Spoken by LIMBERHAM. I beg a Boon, that, e're you all disband, To keep a Punk is but a common evil; Well, I ne're acted Part in all my life, 10 Now I am Married, I must sit down by it; Let none of you Damn'd Woodalls of the Pit Not one in ten of yours e're comes to good. Our Counters will be throng'd, and Roads 20 This Town two Bargains has, not worth one A Smithfield Horse, and Wife of Covent- PROLOGUE TO THE TRUE WIDOW. Heav'n save ye Gallants, and this hopeful | In vain our Wares on Theaters are shown, Y' are welcome to the downfal of the Stage: And Vice (the Manufacture of the Nation) When each has a Plantation of his own. There's still God's Plenty for himself and 10 THE TRUE WIDOW, 1678. The play is by Shadwell. The Prologue was reprinted in 1690 with Aphra Behn's The Widow Ranter. 9 Cruse Editors till Christie absurdly give Cause Shou'd Men be rated by Poetick Rules, Lord, what a Poll would there be rais'd from Fools! Mean time poor Wit prohibited must lye, As if 'twere made some French Commodity. Fools you will have, and rais'd at vast expence, And yet as soon as seen, they give offence. Time was, when none wou'd cry that Oaf was inee, But now you strive about your Pedigree. Bauble and Cap no sooner are thrown down, But there's a Muss of more than half the Town. Of Forreign Cattle there's no longer need, When w'are supply'd so fast with English Breed. Well! Flourish, Countrymen; drink, swear, and roar; Let every free-born Subject keep his And wandring in the Wilderness about, To own beyond a Limb, or single share; 30 20 For where the Punk is common, he's a Each one will challenge a Child's part at Sot least ; A sign the Family is well increas'd: Who needs will father what the Parish got. PROLOGUE AND EPILOGUE TO DIPUS. PROLOGUE. WHEN Athens all the Græcian State did guide, II PROLOGUE AND EPILOGUE TO TROILUS AND CRESSIDA, OR TRUTH FOUND TOO LATE. PROLOGUE. Spoken by MR. BETTERTON, representing the Ghost of SHAKSPEAR. SEE, my lov'd Britons, see your Shakespeare rise, An awfull Ghost confess'd to human Eyes! Unnam'd, methinks, distinguish'd I had been From other Shades by this eternal Green, About whose Wreaths the vulgar Poetsstrive, And with a Touch, their wither'd Bays revive. Untaught, unpractis'd, in a barbarous Age, I found not, but created first the Stage. And if I drain'd no Greek or Latin Store, 'Twas that my own Abundance gave me 10 more. On foreign Trade I needed not rely, Some Master-strokes, so manly and so bold DIPUS, 1678. Epilogue 9 Pity] pity 1678. 10 mount] Christie wrongly gives move |