 | The Rival Kings : or The Loves of Oroondates and Statira |  |
PROLOGUE.
Forget how you were serv'd last time, and prayBe kind this once—
T'a modest Prologue and a modest Play,
Dreading your anger poor deluded Tray
Has slip'd his Collar, and is run away.
Jo. Haynes himself, that shew'd us this dog trick
Has left us all of our displeasure sick,
To th'Ladies now the Author by me speaks,
A just admirer of your gallant Sex;
He is your Poet, and a Lover too,
For chiefly he design'd this Play for you;
If you can find but in it Love or Wit,
He vowes he can out love what he has writ:
Bids me remember e're you be displeas'd,
How with Cassandra's fam'd Romance ye were pleas'd;
How many nights 't has kept you long awake,
Nay and have wept for Oroondates sake.
When so good natur'd to him, but in thought,
Be but so kind where he himself has brought.
For your new Poet next I must implore;
Dash not his hopes of this on any score;
For if you do—
He is so modest he will write no more.
Disperse the stormes with your fair smiles and eyes,
That from the rage of Blustring Criticks rise;
And as the Tempest gathers in the Pit
Let the bright Boxes beams then scatter it.
| The Rival Kings : or The Loves of Oroondates and Statira | |