The works of Allan Ramsay edited by Burns Martin ... and John W. Oliver [... and Alexander M. Kinghorn ... and Alexander Law] |
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PROLOGUE. Spoke by one of the young Gentlemen, who, for their
Improvement and Diversion, acted The Orphan,
and Cheats of Scapin, the last Night of the year 1719.
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The works of Allan Ramsay | ||
PROLOGUE. Spoke by one of the young Gentlemen, who, for their Improvement and Diversion, acted The Orphan, and Cheats of Scapin, the last Night of the year 1719.
Braw Lads, and bonny Lasses, welcome here,—
But wha's to entertain ye,—never speer.—
Quietness is best.—Tho we be leal and true,
Good Sense and Wit's mair than we dare avow.—
Some Body says to some Fowk, We're to blame,
That 'tis a Scandal and black-burning Shame
To thole young Callands thus to grow sae snack,
And lear—O mighty Crimes!—to speak and act.—
Stage-Plays, quoth Dunce, are unco' Things indeed!
He said,—he gloom'd,—and shook his thick boss Head.
They're Papery, Papery!—cry'd his Nibour neist,
Contriv'd at Rome by some malignant Priest,
To witch away Fowks Minds frae doing well,
As saith Rab Ker , M'Millan and M'Neil.
But wha's to entertain ye,—never speer.—
Quietness is best.—Tho we be leal and true,
Good Sense and Wit's mair than we dare avow.—
Some Body says to some Fowk, We're to blame,
That 'tis a Scandal and black-burning Shame
To thole young Callands thus to grow sae snack,
185
Stage-Plays, quoth Dunce, are unco' Things indeed!
He said,—he gloom'd,—and shook his thick boss Head.
They're Papery, Papery!—cry'd his Nibour neist,
Contriv'd at Rome by some malignant Priest,
To witch away Fowks Minds frae doing well,
As saith Rab Ker , M'Millan and M'Neil.
But let them tauk.—In Spite of ilk Cadaver,
We'll cherish Wit, and scorn their Fead or Favour;
We'll strive to bring in active Eloquence,
Tho for a while upon our Fame's Expence.—
I'm wrang.—Our Fame will mount with metled Carles,
And for the rest, we'll be aboon their Snarls.—
Knock down the Fools, wha dare with empty Rage
Spit in the Face of Virtue and the Stage.
'Cause Hereticks in Pulpits thump and rair,
Must naithing orthodox b' expected there;
Because a Rump cut off a Royal Head,
Must not anither Parli'ment succeed.
Thus tho the Drama's aft debauch'd and rude,
Must we, for some are bad, refuse the good:
Answer me that,—If there be ony Log,
That's come to keek upon us here incog,
Anes,—Twice, Thrice.—But now I think on't, stay,
I've something else to do, and must away.—
This Prologue was design'd for Use and Sport,
The Chiel that made it, let him answer for't.
We'll cherish Wit, and scorn their Fead or Favour;
We'll strive to bring in active Eloquence,
Tho for a while upon our Fame's Expence.—
I'm wrang.—Our Fame will mount with metled Carles,
And for the rest, we'll be aboon their Snarls.—
Knock down the Fools, wha dare with empty Rage
Spit in the Face of Virtue and the Stage.
'Cause Hereticks in Pulpits thump and rair,
Must naithing orthodox b' expected there;
Because a Rump cut off a Royal Head,
Must not anither Parli'ment succeed.
Thus tho the Drama's aft debauch'd and rude,
Must we, for some are bad, refuse the good:
Answer me that,—If there be ony Log,
That's come to keek upon us here incog,
Anes,—Twice, Thrice.—But now I think on't, stay,
I've something else to do, and must away.—
This Prologue was design'd for Use and Sport,
The Chiel that made it, let him answer for't.
The works of Allan Ramsay | ||