 | The Novella |  |
PROLOGUE.
Should I not speake a Prologue, and appeareIn a starch'd formall Beard and Cloake, I feare,
Some of this Auditory would be vext,
And jay this is a Sermon without a Text.
Some thinke it so essentiall, that they say
Nor foole, nor Prologue, there can be no Play.
Our Author's unprovided, and doth vow,
What e're I say must stand for Prologue now;
Then have at wit for once, why mayn't I be
Inspir'd with wit, and sence extempore?
But first I'le tell you, that I had commission
From him to tell you that hee'l not petition
To be dubb'd Poet, for he holds it fit,
That nought should make a man a wit, but wit,
Hee'll 'bide his triall, and submits his cause
To you the Jury, so you'l judge by Lawes.
If Pride or Ignorance should rule, he feares
An unfaire tryall, 'cause not try'd by's Peeres.
Faith be your selves a while, and pass your vote
On what you understand, and doe not dote
On things 'bove nature or intelligence;
All we pretend to is but Mirth and Sence.
And he that lookes for more, must ee'ne goe seeke
Those Poet-Bownces that write English Greeke.
Our Author aimes only to gaine you laughter,
Which if you won't, hee'l laugh at you hereafter.
| The Novella | |