University of Virginia Library

PROLOGUE.

VVell Gallants, when we tell you we've been just
To the Renown'd Guarinies sacred Dust;
And to secure your good Opinions, say
We've brought an admired Relique into play:
Me-thinks I hear a young brisk Critick Swear,
Ounds, do they think we're Antiquaries here.
Rot the dull Rhiming Fops of the last Age:
Damne 'em, they'l bring the Brittish Bards o'th' Stage.
There's your Condemning Vote. Of all Man-kind,
Unhappy Writers the left mercy find.
A Play, but for one fault in the Design;
A hobling Verse, dull Thought, or a flat Line,
Is lost beyond the pow'r of a Reprieve.
Yet there are greater faults you can forgive.
As for example, some of you by Fate,
And your kind Parents, get a great Estate;
And having other ways t'employ your Wit,
Then in the foolish care of keeping it:
Straight a Grave, Sober, Guardian-Steward comes
To read your Papers, and to count your Sums.
Whom we soon see by Industry and Care,
Out of his three-score pounds allowance, clear
In seaven years space, a thousand pound a year.
Yet he good honest Man shall be forgiven.
Another keeps a Miss the modish way;
And when poor Duns, quite weary, will not stay,
The hopeless Squire's into Alsatia driven;
Yet pretty Charming Sinner is forgiven.
And yet these very Men for three hours spent
At a dull Play, what Rage and Fire they'l vent.
Since greater Losses go so easily down;
Faith Gallants do not pine for Half a Crown.