University of Virginia Library

The Prologue.

When first our Authour took this Play in hand,
He doubted much and long was at a stand.
He knew the Fame and Memory of Kings
Were to be treated of as Sacred things.
Not as th' are represented in this Age,
Where they appear the Lumber of the Stage;
Us'd only just for reconciling Tools,
Or what is worse, made Villains all, or Fools.
Besides, the Characters he shows to Night,
He found were very difficult to Write:
He found the Fame of France and Spain at stake,
Therefore long paus'd and fear'd which part to take;
Till this his judgment safest understood,
To make 'em both Heroick as he cou'd.
But now the greatest stop was yet unpass't,
He found himself, Alas! confin'd too fast.
He is a man of Pleasures, Sirs, like you,
And therefore hardly could to bus'ness bow,
Till at the last he did this Conquest get,
To make his pleasure whetstone to his wit,
So sometimes for variety he writ.
But as those Block-heads who discourse by Rote,
Sometimes speak sence although they rarely know't.
So he scarce knew to what his work would grow;
But 'twas a Play because it would be so:
Yet well he knows this is a weak pretence,
For Idleness is the worst want of sence.
Let him not now of carelessness be Taxt,
He'l write in earnest when he writes the next;
Mean while—
Prune his superfluous Branches, never spare;
Yet do it kindly, be not too severe,
He may bear better fruit another year.