 | A Challenge for Beavtie |  |
The Prologue.
The
Roman and Athenian Drammaes farre
Differ from us, And those that frequent are
In Italy and France, even in these dayes,
Compar'd with ours, are rather jiggs than Playes:
Like of the Spanish may be said, and Dutch,
None verst in language, but confesse them such.
They doe not build their projects on that ground,
Nor have their phrases halfe the weight and sound
Our laboured Scenes have had; (and yet our Nation,
Already too much taxt for imitation,
In seeking to Ape others) cannot quit
Some of our Poets, who have sinn'd in it.
For where before great Patriots, Dukes and Kings
Presented for some hie facinorious things,
Were the Stage-Subiect; now we strive to flie
In their low pitch, who never could so are hie:
For now the common argument intreats,
Of puling Lovers, craftie Bawdes or cheates.
Differ from us, And those that frequent are
In Italy and France, even in these dayes,
Compar'd with ours, are rather jiggs than Playes:
Like of the Spanish may be said, and Dutch,
None verst in language, but confesse them such.
They doe not build their projects on that ground,
Nor have their phrases halfe the weight and sound
Our laboured Scenes have had; (and yet our Nation,
Already too much taxt for imitation,
In seeking to Ape others) cannot quit
Some of our Poets, who have sinn'd in it.
For where before great Patriots, Dukes and Kings
Presented for some hie facinorious things,
Were the Stage-Subiect; now we strive to flie
In their low pitch, who never could so are hie:
For now the common argument intreats,
Of puling Lovers, craftie Bawdes or cheates.
Nor blame I their quick fancies, who can fit
These queasie Times, with Humours flash't in wit,
Whose Art I both incourage and commend;
I only wish that they would sometimes bend
To memorise the valours of such men,
Whose very names might dignifie the Pen,
And that our (once applauded) Roscian straine,
In acting such might be reviv'd againe:
Which you to countenance, would the Stage make proud,
And Poets strive to key their strings more loud.
These queasie Times, with Humours flash't in wit,
Whose Art I both incourage and commend;
I only wish that they would sometimes bend
To memorise the valours of such men,
Whose very names might dignifie the Pen,
And that our (once applauded) Roscian straine,
In acting such might be reviv'd againe:
Which you to countenance, would the Stage make proud,
And Poets strive to key their strings more loud.
| A Challenge for Beavtie | |