 | The Siege of Constantinople |  |
PROLOGUE TO THE Siege of CONSTANTINOPLE.
Poets and Duellists have the same Fate;The bravest man may be Unfortunate:
You that resolve to rayle at every Play,
Like pious men, worldly delights betray;
But if you will ne're please your selves you may.
So mirth is lost, whilst Fools dispraise the Wine;
So Punk is dangerous be she ne're so fine;
Thus subtly you 'gainst all your joys combine.
And warily by Arguments destroy
Those very pleasures which you should enjoy:
Love Crown'd with Beauty and Success can cloy.
Since at the best, your pleasures are so few,
Make your selves any where you find 'em new.
Be kind to us; and she who faild to Night:
This Play, if prais'd, to morrow will invite
To meet you here, and your lost time requite.
'Tis true, of late you justly have complain'd:
But thank your selves for what your Niceness gain'd;
When you before were such high Critticks grown,
As if Wit only were by Censuring known
In praising, where 'tis due, Wit may be shown.
Severity does modest Authors fright
Self-prizing Fops with French Assurance write.
Those who have Wit, like wary Gamesters fear
To hazard sums, where but small gains appear.
Whilst empty Fools more briskly do expose
A Reputation, which they cannot Lose.
| The Siege of Constantinople | |