University of Virginia Library

Prologue to Brutus, written by Mr. Duke.

Long has the tribe of Poets on the Stage
Groan'd under persecuting Criticks rage,
But with the sound of railing and of rime,
Like Bees united by the tinkling Chime,
The little stinging Insects swarm the more
And buz is greater than it was before.
But oh! you leading Voters of the Pit,
That infect others with your too much Wit,
That well affected Members do seduce,
And with your malice poyson half the house,
Know your ill manag'd Arbitrary sway,
Shall be no more indur'd but ends this day.
Rulers of abler conduct we will choose,
And more indulgent to a trembling Muse;
Women for ends of Government more fit,
Women shall rule the Boxes and the Pit,
Give Laws to love and influence to Wit,
Find me one man of sence in all your roll,
Whom some one Woman has not made a fool.
Even business that intollerable load
Under which man does groan and yet is proud,
Much better they can manage wou'd they please,
'Tis not their want of Wit, but love of Ease.
For, spite of Art, more Wit in them appears
Tho we boast ours, and they dissemble theirs:
Witt once was ours, and shot up for a while
Set shallow in a hot, and barren Soyle;
But when transplanted to a richer Ground
Has in their Eden its perfection found.
And 'tis but Just they shou'd our Wit invade,
Whilst we set up their painting patching trade;
As for our Courage, to our shame 'tis known,
As they can raise it, they can pull it down.
At their own Weapons they our Bullies awe,
Faith let them make an Antisalick Law
Prescribe to all mankind, as well as playes,
And wear the breeches, as they wear the Bayes.