 | Ulysses |  |
PROLOGUE, Spoken by Mr. Betterton.
To Night, in Honour of the marry'd Life,Our Author Treats you with a Virtuous Wife;
A Lady, who, for Twenty Years, withstood
The pressing Instances of Flesh and Blood;
Her Husband, still a Man of Sense reputed,
(Unless this Tale his Wisdom have confuted,)
Left her at ripe Eighteen, to seek Renown,
And Battel for a Harlot at Troy Town;
To fill his Place, fresh Lovers came in Shoals,
Much such as now a-days are Cupid's Tools,
Some Men of Wit, but the most part were Fools.
They sent her Billets doux, and Presents many,
Of ancient Tea and Thericlean China;
Rail'd at the Gods, toasted her o'er and o'er,
Dress'd at Her, danc'd, and fought, and sigh'd, and swore;
In short, did all that Men could do to have her,
And Damn'd themselves to get into her Favour;
But all in vain, the Virtuous Dame stood Buff,
And let 'em know that she was Coxcomb Proof;
Messieurs the Beaux, what think you of the Matter?
Don't you believe old Homer given to Flatter?
When you approach, and pressing the soft Hand,
Favours, with well-bred Impudence, demand,
Is it in Woman's Weakness to withstand?
Cease to be vain, and give the Sex their Due;
Our English Wives shall prove this Story true:
We have our Chaste Penelope's, who mourn
Their Widow'd Beds, and wait their Lords Return;
We have our Heroes too, who bravely bear,
Far from their Home, the Dangers of the War;
Who careless of the Winter Season's Rage,
New Toils explore, and in new Cares engage;
And restless journies on, to give the World Repose.
Such are the constant Labours of the Sun,
Whose active, glorious Course is never done;
And tho', when hence he parts, with us 'tis Night,
Still he goes on, and lends to other Worlds his Light.
Ye beauteous Nymphs, with open Arms prepare
To meet the Warriors, and reward their Care;
May you for ever kind and faithful prove,
And pay their Days of Toil with Nights of Love.
| Ulysses | |