The works of Sr William Davenant ... Consisting of Those which were formerly Printed, and Those which he design'd for the Press: Now published Out of the Authors Originall Copies |
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PROLOGUE,
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 | The works of Sr William Davenant |  |
PROLOGUE,
To the unfortunate Lovers.
VVere you but halfe so humble to confess,As you are Wise, to know your Happiness;
Our Author would not grieve to see you sit
Ruling with such unquestion'd pow'r his Wit:
How happy were I, could I still retain
My Loyalty to him, yet fairly gain
Your kind opinion by revealing now
The cause of that great Storm which clouds his Brow,
And his close murmurs, which since meant to you,
I cannot think, or mannerly, or true?
Well; I begin to be resolv'd, and let
My melancholly Tragick Monsieur fret;
Let him the several harmless weapons use
Of that all-daring trifle, call'd his Muse;
Yet I'le inform you what this very day
Twice before witness, I have heard him say;
Which is, that you are grown excessive proud;
Since ten times more of Wit then was allow'd,
Your silly Ancestors in twenty year,
You think, in two short hours to swallow here.
For they to Theaters were pleas'd to come,
E're they had din'd, to take up the best Room:
There sit on Benches not adorn'd with Mats,
And graciously did vail their high-crown'd Hats
To every halfe-dress'd Player, as he still
Through Hangings peep'd to see the Gall'ries fill.
Good easie judging Souls, with what delight
They would expect a Jigg or Target-Fight,
A furious Tale of Troy which they ne'r thought
Was weakly Writ, if it were strongly Fought:
Laught at a Clinch, the shadow of a Jest,
And cry'd, A passing good one I protest!
Such dull and humble-witted People were
Even your Forefathers, whom we govern'd here:
And such had you been too, he swears, had not
The Poets taught you to unweave a Plot.
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What was true Sense, not what did sound like Wit.
They arm'd you thus, against themselves to fight,
Made strong and mischievous from what they write:
You have been lately highly feasted here:
With two great Wits who grac'd our Theatre:
But, if to feed you, often with delight,
Will more corrupt then mend your appetite;
He vows to use you, which he much abhors,
As others did, your homely Ancestors.
| The works of Sr William Davenant | |