University of Virginia Library

The PROLOGUES To the ensuing Plays.

A Prelude to THORNY-ABBEY.

Enter a Fool with a Paper in his hand for a Prologue.
Fool.

Ha! ha! I'me come now at last, or at
first, which you will: for I am first here.
D'ye call't a Tragedy? so they tell me it is, and
that no fools must be in Tragedies: for they are serious
matters, forsooth. But I say there may, and
there must be fools in Tragedies, and you call them
Tragedies, or there will be no Tragedies. And I tell
you more, they are all fools in the Tragedy; and
you are fools, that come to see the Tragedy; and
the Poet's a fool, who made the Tragedy, to tell a
Story of a King and a Court, and leave a fool out
on't; when in Pacy's, and Sommers's, and Patche's,
and Archer's times, my venerable Predecessours,
a fool was alwayes the Principal Verb; and, as I suppose,
was so too long before that; and, as I suppose,
when Thorny built his Abbey too; I, and as
I suppose, we shall by his good leave, or without
it, continue so still to the end of the Chapter.
But, now I talk of the Principal Verb, I have a part
to say to you, if the Prompter would come to tell
me, when I am out.

Enter Prompter, and takes the Fool's Paper, and stands behind him.
Fool.

We're to present you—(Ha! ha! he
thinks I have pigs in my belly.)

Prompter.

Sirrah! go on. We're to present you—

Fool.

I won't have't non-sence We're to present you—but I'le hav't I am to present you—

Prompter.

And what are you to present them,
I pray?

Fool.

A P—a P—a P—a Pick-pocket.

Prompter.

A fools' head: are not you? a Pick-pocket,
quoth he; a Prologue you mean.

Fool.

Why? I was sure, it began with a P. And
though you will have it a Prologue, I say, it is a
Pick-pocket too, I and a Pick-pocket Prologue too: for
ask um, if all their pockets be'nt the worse for it.

The Prompter offers to strike him, and he runs in.
Prompter.
Though he's unready in's part, I dare say,
He did intend so bid you Welcome to our Play,
What more he had to tell you in his mind,
I finde not by the Notes h'has left behind:
But within gather from their studied parts,
And tiring-habits, they will use their arts,
To shew how Royal bloud's reveng'd when spilt,
And THORNY-Abbey first came to be built,
A place for great devotion of much fame,
Which since to Westminster hath chang'd its name.
Then, if you'l silent sit, and mum not say,
The Actors enter, and begin the Play.

The Epilogue to Thorny-Abbey.

After so grave a Scene, since 'twere not fit
For to unhinge your thoughts with flashy Wit;
Or when the King and Court in mourning's clad
For Thorny's death, that you alone be glad,
Lest you approve your selves a kin to those,
Who sooner then comply with, Kings depose:
Th'old Hermit's Doctrine only wee'l apply,
And teach you from a Stage to learn to dy,
Whose Monumental Lesson, though 't be true,
That death betides to Men, and Tapers too,
Yet this one favour we do hope you'l give,
Through your Applause that this our Play may live.

The Prologue to the MARRIAGE-BROAKER.

You, who are seated, and for entrance pay,
I bid you hearty Well-come to our Play.
A Play span-new, and ne're yet on the score
For th'Poet's faults, or what's the Actors more.
We therefore hope 'twill please: and reason good.
Since 'tdoth present no tale of Robin Hood,
No musty Story dress'd in Phrases new;
And yet you'l finde in't Wit and Language too.
Its subject is well known, a common Vice,
Made up of Riot, and foul Avarice:
For when a Royster spends his fair Estate,
And penny-less 'gins to repent too late,
His first-fetch'd project how again to thrive,
Is cast about how richly he may Wive,
This soon is broke to some, whose reaching Wits
Can well contrive, and's conscience wrinkled sits:
Who, out of hope to share the prey, about
Soon plods, and finds the youth a Mistress out.
The Match soon made, they're married with all speed:
But hasty Weddings soon contention breed.
Our Play lays open every wile and gin
Whereby they coaks and draw the Females in:
Then be attent and since fore arm'd fore warn'd.
How to beware such guiles may hence be learn'd.

The Prologue to GRIM the Collier of CROYDON.

You're Well-come: but our Plot I dare not tell yee,
For fear I fright a Lady with great belly:
Or should a Scold be 'mong you, I durst say,
Shee'd make more work, then th'Devil, in the Play.
Heard you not never how an Actor's wife,
Whom he fond fool, lov'd dearly as his life,
Coming in's way did chance to get a jape,
As he was 'tired in his Devil's shape,
And how aquivocal a generation
Was then begot, and brought forth thereupon?
Let it not fright you; this I dare to say,
Here is no lecherous Devil in our Play.
He will nor rumple Peg, nor Joan, nor Nan,
But ha's enough at home to do with Marian;
Whom he so little pleases; she in scorn
Doth teach his Devilship to wind the Horn.
But if your children cry when Robin comes,
You may to still them buy here Pears or Plums.
Then sit you quiet all, who are come in,
St. Dunstan will soon enter, and begin.