 | The Royal Mischief |  |
PROLOGUE spoken by Mr. Betterton.
Criticks , ye are grown so much unkind of late,Who dares to write runs on their certain Fate;
If to Parnassus once they miss their way.
Once chance to glimmer out a feeble ray,
Condemn 'em always by such light to stray;
That Poets floating betwixt hopes and fears,
Now dread you more than Merchants Privateers.
Fain ours wou'd bribe you high to let her live,
At least mayn't mercy stretch to a reprieve;
So may the Statesmans Policy increase,
And Traders have their wisht desires for Peace;
So may the Levite, with no doubts perplext,
E'en as dear Interest leads, explain his Text;
So may the Beans be sparkish as they can,
All Wig and Dress, no matter for the Man;
The Souldier paid his money without fighting,
And Poets there's in that worse Combat, Writing:
The Vizards Mask it to their Friends unknown,
Fool most themselves in fooling of the Town:
My last kind Wishes Ladies are for you,
Espouse your Sexes Cause, and bravely too,
So may you still be fair, your Lovers ever true.
| The Royal Mischief | |