University of Virginia Library

The Prologue for the Stage.

To this faire Company I am to say,
You're Welcome all, to a well meaning play,
For such our Author made it, with intent
To defame none. His Muse is innocent,
A Virgin yet, that has not found the wayes
Out of foule crimes to raise her selfe a prayse;
And therefore She desires, you would excuse
All bitter straines, that suite a Satyr Muse:
And that which so much takes the Vulgar Eare,
Loosenes of speech, which they for jests do heare;
She hopes none such are here, therfore she dares
Venter this story, purg'd from lighter ayres:
A piece intire, without or patch, or maime,
Round in it selfe, and euery where the fame.
And if there be not in't, what they call wit,
There might haue bin, had it bin thought so fir,
A Shepheards Muse gently of loue does sing,
And with it mingles no impurer thing.
Such she presents vnto your eares, and eyes,
And yet your Christian freedome not denies
Of liking, or disliking what you will,
You may say this is well, or that is ill,
Without dispute; for why should you that pay
For what you haue, be taught what you should say,
Or made to judge by any square, or rule,
As if you came not to a Stage, but Schoole?
No, he that made it, sayes, if you will eate,
He will not force your stomackes, there's your meat;
Which if you like tis well, if not, all's one,
There must be difference in opinion:
Besides, he's sure what ever hee could wish,
Your taste, and not his Art must praise the dish.