 | The Fair Penitent |  |
PROLOGUE, Spoken by Mr. Betterton.
Long
has the Fate of Kings and Empires been
The common Bus'ness of the Tragick Scene,
As if Misfortune made the Throne her Seat,
And none cou'd be unhappy but the Great.
Dearly, 'tis true, each buys the Crown he wears,
And many are the mighty Monarch's Cares:
By foreign Foes and home-bred Factions prest,
Few are the Joys he knows, and short his Hours of Rest.
Stories like these with Wonder we may hear,
But far remote, and in a higher Sphere,
We ne'er can pity what we ne'er can share.
Like distant Battles of the Pole and Swede,
Which frugal Citizens o'er Coffee read,
Careless for who shall fail or who succeed.
Therefore an humbler Theme our Author chose,
A melancholy Tale of private Woes:
No Princes here lost Royalty bemoan,
But you shall meet with Sorrows like your own;
Here see imperious Love his Vassals treat,
As hardly as Ambition does the Great;
See how succeeding Passions rage by turns,
How fierce the Youth with Joy and Rapture burns,
And how to Death, for Beauty lost, he mourns.
The common Bus'ness of the Tragick Scene,
As if Misfortune made the Throne her Seat,
And none cou'd be unhappy but the Great.
Dearly, 'tis true, each buys the Crown he wears,
And many are the mighty Monarch's Cares:
By foreign Foes and home-bred Factions prest,
Few are the Joys he knows, and short his Hours of Rest.
Stories like these with Wonder we may hear,
But far remote, and in a higher Sphere,
We ne'er can pity what we ne'er can share.
Like distant Battles of the Pole and Swede,
Which frugal Citizens o'er Coffee read,
Careless for who shall fail or who succeed.
Therefore an humbler Theme our Author chose,
A melancholy Tale of private Woes:
No Princes here lost Royalty bemoan,
But you shall meet with Sorrows like your own;
Here see imperious Love his Vassals treat,
As hardly as Ambition does the Great;
See how succeeding Passions rage by turns,
How fierce the Youth with Joy and Rapture burns,
And how to Death, for Beauty lost, he mourns.
Let no nice Taste the Poet's Art arraign,
If some frail vicious Characters he feign:
Who Writes shou'd still let Nature be his Care,
Mix Shades with Lights, and not paint all things fair,
But shew you Men and Women as they are.
With Deference to the Fair he bad me say,
Few to Perfection ever found the Way;
Many in many Parts are known t'excel,
But 'twere too hard for One to act all well;
Whom justly Life should through each Scene commend,
The Maid, the Wife, the Mistress, and the Friend:
This Age, 'tis true, has one great Instance seen,
And Heav'n in Justice made that One a Queen.
If some frail vicious Characters he feign:
Mix Shades with Lights, and not paint all things fair,
But shew you Men and Women as they are.
With Deference to the Fair he bad me say,
Few to Perfection ever found the Way;
Many in many Parts are known t'excel,
But 'twere too hard for One to act all well;
Whom justly Life should through each Scene commend,
The Maid, the Wife, the Mistress, and the Friend:
This Age, 'tis true, has one great Instance seen,
And Heav'n in Justice made that One a Queen.
| The Fair Penitent | |