 | The History of Antonio and Mellida |  |
The Prologue.
The wreath of pleasure, and delicious sweetes,Begirt the gentle front of this faire troope:
Select, and most respected Auditours,
For wits sake doe not dreame of miracles.
Alas, we shall but falter, if you lay
The least sad waight of an vnused hope,
Vpon our weakenesse: onely we giue vp
The woorthlesse present of slight idlenesse,
To your authentick censure; O that our Muse
Had those abstruse and synowy faculties,
That with a straine of fresh inuention
She might presse out the raritie of Art;
The pur'st elixed ioyce of rich conceipt,
In your attentiue eares; that with the lip
Of gratious elocution, we might drinke
A sound carouse vnto your health of wit.
But O, the heathy drynesse of her braine,
Foyle to your fertile spirits, is asham'd
To breath her blushing numbers to such eares:
Yet (most ingenious) deigne to vaile our wants;
With sleeke acceptance, polish these rude Sceanes:
And if our slightnesse your large hope beguiles,
Check not with bended brow, but dimpled smiles.
Exit Prologue.
| The History of Antonio and Mellida | |