University of Virginia Library

The Prologue:

(Called by the Spaniard The Loa, i. e. The Praise, because therein the Spectators are commended to curry favour with them:) Spoken by the Lady Isabella Velasco, and the Lady Isabella Guzman; the latter pulling the former in with her upon the Stage.
Vel.
I will not forth with thee (that's plain)
Child, thou tir'st thy self in vain.

Guz.
Isabel, thy Face, Life, Meen,
Be now my Second, now my Skreen.

Vel.
I Garb? I Spirit? Beauty I?
What, oblige me with a Lye?
Skreen thee that Face, thy Mettle fine,
Which second is to none, be thine.
I joyn with thee in the Prologue?
I with the Audience to collogue,
Stiling them Senate? Was I Born
To Lead of Pigmies the Forelorn?
There's Lady's work with all my heart!

Guz.
I, but, Velasco, take her part,
Who of the Minikin Brigade
The youngest is, the Lanspresade.

Vel.
Marry, a good, and mending Fault,
But who must aftewards be sought
To make me confident and bold?
For, Guzman, neither am I old.

Guz.
Well, of the Play then I despair,
Since with the Dames whatever's rare,
Sprightful, Divine, is wanting all:
For, no Dames, no Festivall.
Unto whose Top-top-gallant Beauty
To strike, is little Fly-boats Duty:
Superlatives have there a Rise:
Comparisons are odious twice.

Vel.
That Fear hath Reason on its side,
But a worse matter I have spy'd:
The pityous humane Poet, he
Fears too, his Farce will tedious be.

Guz.
What a Fear that for the base Rout!
What a misbegotten doubt!
(“For Modesty may split it self
“On a high Rock, or a low Shelf.)
No, no, our Festival, howe're
It in it self hath cause to fear,
(For of Meninas even the name
Speaks littleness) yet our great Dame
(Whom, were She not Divine all out,
Heaven would have made a humane doubt)
Making it now her Offering
Upon the Birth-day of the King,
It must for that be understood
Both short and sweet, and great and good,
That It is Hers deserves Applause:
Effects are measured by their Cause.
Chiefly so fair Porch being made
Thereto; as such a Mascarade,
In which the Infanta's Self would be,
To grace the Queens Solemnitie,
The King too Her refin'd Gallant
(For no high strain of Soul can want
In one whose Body is so pure)
What Favour doth not he ensure?
It must be full as much at least
As His Divine Sister exprest,
With their two Brothers; All High Born:
Children of Phœbus, and the Morn.
The Dames w' are sure of to their powers:
All then is safe, all then is ours:
In so much Beauty, so much Glory.

Vel.
And the Forreign Auditory.

Guz.
Friend, thou wilt, drown in shallow water,
Bespeak not Ills, things hap thereafter,
My Life upon't, our Festivall
To see, will hurt none of them all:
Whip me, if of the Twenty four
They feel not many hours creep slower.

Vel.
Away then with the Prologue, Wench:
But beg not favour of the Bench,
Nor silence: Nor whine out at first,
Pardon our faults, (that Fault's the worst)
Be out, nor praise the King for fair
Beauty is perishable Ware,
And I my Master would commend
For parts alone which time will mend.
Shape is the humane By of Kings,
Who in the Main are God-like Things:
Call me the Queen, French Flower no more,
But in Field Azure a Sun Or;;
Now so much Native of Casteel
That ev'n Her Soul is Spanish Steel:
Nor Charles and Fernand Branches both
Of the old Lawrel of the Goth:
But Scyons of a better Tree
In Paradice's Nursery:
And of MARIA (Glorious Dame)
Beauty without, lin'd with the same
(Since ev'n strong Lines cannot afford
To do her right) speak not a word,
But let her praise to it self sing
Like Bells that, without pulling, ring.

Guz.
Kings should be prais'd with reverence then,
As they are Kings, not as they 're Men;
Their fortitude, and not their face;
The sordid Flatterers Common-place:
His Actions I will Celebrate;
His parts, as they are parts of State;
Much of King, in Years but few;
Spains Honour, and her Indies new,
And his fair Spouse.

Vel.
That task is Fames:
Begin.

Guz.
Still vailing to the Dames.