University of Virginia Library

PROLOGUE

TO Lucius Junius Brutus.

Long has the Tribe of Poets on the Stage
Groan'd under persecuting Criticks Rage,
But with the Sound of Railing, and of Rhime,
Like Bees united by the tinkling Chime,
The little stinging Insects swarm the more,
And buz is greater than it was before.
But oh! you leading Voters of the Pit,
That infect others with your too much Wit,
That well affected Members do seduce,
And with your Malice poison half the House,
Know your ill-manag'd Arbitrary Sway,
Shall be no more endur'd, but ends this Day.
Rulers of abler Conduct we will chuse,
And more indulgent to a trembling Muse;
Women for ends of Government more fit,
Women shall rule the Boxes and the Pit,
Give Laws to Love and Influence to Wit.
Find me one Man of Sense in all your Roll,
Whom some one Woman has not made a Fool.
Even Business, that intolerable Load
Under which Man does groan and yet is proud,
Much better they cou'd manage wou'd they please,
'Tis not their want of Wit, but love of Ease.
For, spite of Art, more Wit in them appears,
Tho' we boast ours, and they dissemble theirs:
Wit once was ours, and shot up for a while,
Set shallow in a hot and barren Soil;
But when transplanted to a richer Ground
Has in their Eden its Perfection found.
And 'tis but just they shou'd our Wit invade,
Whilst we set up their painting patching Trade;
As for our Courage, to our Shame 'tis known,
As they can raise it, they can pull it down.
At their own Weapons they our Bullies awe,
Faith let them make an Anti-salick Law;
Prescribe to all Mankind, as well as Plays,
And wear the Breeches, as they wear the Bays.