The Works of the Late Aaron Hill ... In Four Volumes. Consisting of Letters on Various Subjects, And of Original Poems, Moral and Facetious. With An Essay on the Art of Acting |
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PROLOGUE. |
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 | The Works of the Late Aaron Hill |  |
PROLOGUE.
Ladies and Gentlemen, since all transgression
Is promis'd pardon, when it makes confession:
Know, that our Play—a sheaf of foreign gleaning,
Dreads, to be damn'd, for its excess of meaning.
What tho', to court kind judges, our translator
Has let loose Scandal, and unbridled Satire!
Vain are his arts—that play was built for sinking,
Where none can laugh—but at th' expence of thinking.
In a free nation, 'tis too like subjection,
To pay, for mirth, both money, and reflection.
Wise poets are content with present laughter,
And leave the reason for't—to rise hereafter.
Is promis'd pardon, when it makes confession:
Know, that our Play—a sheaf of foreign gleaning,
Dreads, to be damn'd, for its excess of meaning.
What tho', to court kind judges, our translator
Has let loose Scandal, and unbridled Satire!
Vain are his arts—that play was built for sinking,
Where none can laugh—but at th' expence of thinking.
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To pay, for mirth, both money, and reflection.
Wise poets are content with present laughter,
And leave the reason for't—to rise hereafter.
Our author's muse, importing wit, to charm ye,
Would, with a Frenchman's boasted wildfire warm ye;
Gives ye a Play, which, e'er it wander'd hither,
Brought Paris seventy crowded nights, together.
What it may do, in London—you'll inform us:
French batt'ries guard in vain—if Britons storm us.
Would, with a Frenchman's boasted wildfire warm ye;
Gives ye a Play, which, e'er it wander'd hither,
Brought Paris seventy crowded nights, together.
What it may do, in London—you'll inform us:
French batt'ries guard in vain—if Britons storm us.
'Tis no gay Opera—but there's much, that's smart in't,
'The God of wit vouchsafes to act a part in't.
I play the ass, in't—that, you'll say's no wonder,
'Tis a disguise, most men are actors under.
I grant it—asses in men's shape, are common;
But reasoning asses have been heard by no man.
Yet, since he needs must change me—would he had run it
Up to the fashion's height, not underdone it!
Had my long ears, and hoofs 'scap'd transformation,
And one gay dance been learnt—I'd charm'd the nation.
These empty Frenchmen of their wit may vapour,
But, what's a nimble tongue, without a caper!
'The God of wit vouchsafes to act a part in't.
I play the ass, in't—that, you'll say's no wonder,
'Tis a disguise, most men are actors under.
I grant it—asses in men's shape, are common;
But reasoning asses have been heard by no man.
Yet, since he needs must change me—would he had run it
Up to the fashion's height, not underdone it!
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And one gay dance been learnt—I'd charm'd the nation.
These empty Frenchmen of their wit may vapour,
But, what's a nimble tongue, without a caper!
That's one defect—another ten times greater,
Is, that his Ladies taste is out of nature;
She doats on ruin'd merit,—loving honey!
And weds her Timon, 'cause he 'd lost his money:
Did men want wives, and for that cause would take 'em,
What choice of blessings kind Quadrille would make 'em!
Is, that his Ladies taste is out of nature;
She doats on ruin'd merit,—loving honey!
And weds her Timon, 'cause he 'd lost his money:
Did men want wives, and for that cause would take 'em,
What choice of blessings kind Quadrille would make 'em!
The rest I'll not anticipate—sit quiet,
And, if your taste delights in change of diet,
You'll meet it, in the plenteous feast, you came for,
Dress'd in a foreign form, we have no name for.
And, if your taste delights in change of diet,
You'll meet it, in the plenteous feast, you came for,
Dress'd in a foreign form, we have no name for.
| The Works of the Late Aaron Hill | |