Matthew Prior. Dialogues of the Dead and Other Works in Prose and Verse. The Text Edited by A. R. Waller |
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 | Matthew Prior. Dialogues of the Dead and Other Works |  |
338
A Prologue intended to the Play of Chit Chat, but never finished.
The ugly Beau too partial to his Glass,
As more he looks, and better likes his face,
In every place is certain to appear
Abroad I mean—but there are None such here.
'Tis much the same with those who trade in verse
Fondly they write, then saucily rehearse,
By frequent Repetition bolder grown
First tire their Friends and after plague the Town.
This from Our Author I am bid to say
As some Excuse for his First coup d'Essay
When next he dares his Cens'uring Pen to draw
E'en leave him to the Letter of the Law:
With gentle Stripes Correct the young beginner,
And hang him if he proves a Harden'd Sinner.
What he attempts to paint is Human life,
A good Man injur'd by a Modern wife;
While neither Sense or kindness have the charms
To keep the Cocquet from the Coxcombs arms.
Had the wrong'd Husband been deseas'd and Old
Or to her play deny'd the needful gold,
The Lady might have done as She thought fit,
And these lose Scenes perhaps had n'er been writ.
But in the flower and vigour of His Age
To Cuckold him, creates so just a rage
It is a very Scandal — to the Stage.
As more he looks, and better likes his face,
In every place is certain to appear
Abroad I mean—but there are None such here.
'Tis much the same with those who trade in verse
Fondly they write, then saucily rehearse,
By frequent Repetition bolder grown
First tire their Friends and after plague the Town.
This from Our Author I am bid to say
As some Excuse for his First coup d'Essay
When next he dares his Cens'uring Pen to draw
E'en leave him to the Letter of the Law:
With gentle Stripes Correct the young beginner,
And hang him if he proves a Harden'd Sinner.
What he attempts to paint is Human life,
A good Man injur'd by a Modern wife;
While neither Sense or kindness have the charms
To keep the Cocquet from the Coxcombs arms.
Had the wrong'd Husband been deseas'd and Old
Or to her play deny'd the needful gold,
The Lady might have done as She thought fit,
And these lose Scenes perhaps had n'er been writ.
But in the flower and vigour of His Age
To Cuckold him, creates so just a rage
It is a very Scandal — to the Stage.
Now à propos to what we nam'd, these Scenes:
Some will be asking what the Author means.
Loose and irregular they are 'tis true,
But pray reflect it is your Lives he drew.
A well laid Plot, close order, clear design
Shou'd all conspire to make the Dramma Shine
His Plot he hopes will pardon every fault
'Tis what wou'd puzzle Machiavels own thought
'Tis such pray find it out ---
As Alberoni to his Pupil taught.
Follow these Steps, ye learn'd in State Intreagues!
Who deal in Politicks and Powder'd Wiggs.
E'er yet quite form'd, your Schemes are all reveal'd,
But here ------
The action's done, but yet the Plot conceal'd.
For the design, 'tis twenty several facts,
First dropt in Scenes, then shuffl'd into Acts.
He builds his Schemes in the Lucretian way;
Atoms their motions into forms convey:
And Chance may rule in wit, as well as play.
One thing he bids me beg in his Defence,
That none may Praise or blame that have not Sense.
Take not poor Culprits just request amiss;
It reaches None of You—pray freely Clap or Hiss.
Some will be asking what the Author means.
Loose and irregular they are 'tis true,
But pray reflect it is your Lives he drew.
A well laid Plot, close order, clear design
Shou'd all conspire to make the Dramma Shine
His Plot he hopes will pardon every fault
'Tis what wou'd puzzle Machiavels own thought
'Tis such pray find it out ---
As Alberoni to his Pupil taught.
339
Who deal in Politicks and Powder'd Wiggs.
E'er yet quite form'd, your Schemes are all reveal'd,
But here ------
The action's done, but yet the Plot conceal'd.
For the design, 'tis twenty several facts,
First dropt in Scenes, then shuffl'd into Acts.
He builds his Schemes in the Lucretian way;
Atoms their motions into forms convey:
And Chance may rule in wit, as well as play.
One thing he bids me beg in his Defence,
That none may Praise or blame that have not Sense.
Take not poor Culprits just request amiss;
It reaches None of You—pray freely Clap or Hiss.
| Matthew Prior. Dialogues of the Dead and Other Works | |