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5
PROLOGUE Spoken by Mr. Quin.
Long
have we thought, much Labour has it cost,
What sort of Prologue 'tis wou'd please you most.
Some usher in their Plays with keenest Satyr,
And by Invectives wou'd incite Good-Nature.
Shou'd you condemn, your Judgment they arraign,
And hear you hiss and censure with Disdain.
Others by mean Submission plead their Cause.
And by insidious Flattery win Applause.
And some by Faction, and in Party, strong,
Through five dull Acts their Politicks prolong.
So Bristol Stones like real Gems appear,
We dare not question what the great ones wear.
What sort of Prologue 'tis wou'd please you most.
Some usher in their Plays with keenest Satyr,
And by Invectives wou'd incite Good-Nature.
Shou'd you condemn, your Judgment they arraign,
And hear you hiss and censure with Disdain.
Others by mean Submission plead their Cause.
And by insidious Flattery win Applause.
And some by Faction, and in Party, strong,
Through five dull Acts their Politicks prolong.
So Bristol Stones like real Gems appear,
We dare not question what the great ones wear.
Be far remov'd from us such Thoughts as these;
By no such Methods we aspire to please.
Whate're we plot, howe'er we threat or sue,
From your just Sentence we shall have our Due.
Vernish and Gilding the unskill'd may cheat,
But soon worn off, you see the gross Deceit.
Howe're the tempting golden Oar may shine,
The Royal Stamp must make it current Coin:
Our Sov'reigns you; we patiently submit,
You Frown or Smile, 'tis Nonsense or 'tis Wit.
Fain wou'd we please and common Arts avoid,
For soon with Repetition you are cloy'd.
By no such Methods we aspire to please.
Whate're we plot, howe'er we threat or sue,
From your just Sentence we shall have our Due.
Vernish and Gilding the unskill'd may cheat,
But soon worn off, you see the gross Deceit.
Howe're the tempting golden Oar may shine,
The Royal Stamp must make it current Coin:
Our Sov'reigns you; we patiently submit,
You Frown or Smile, 'tis Nonsense or 'tis Wit.
6
For soon with Repetition you are cloy'd.
Here then, through love of Change, sometimes repair,
And let us equally your Favours share.
Let not one Fondling all your Wealth inherit,
The Fav'rite Child not always has most Merit.
Warm'd by your Beams, we may dispute the Prize,
The strongest Plant without due Nurture dies.
In vain the Farmer tills, in vain he sows,
To the enlivening Sun his Crop he owes.
Cherish'd by you, we may improve each Day,
Poets may better Write, we better Play.
And let us equally your Favours share.
Let not one Fondling all your Wealth inherit,
The Fav'rite Child not always has most Merit.
Warm'd by your Beams, we may dispute the Prize,
The strongest Plant without due Nurture dies.
In vain the Farmer tills, in vain he sows,
To the enlivening Sun his Crop he owes.
Cherish'd by you, we may improve each Day,
Poets may better Write, we better Play.
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