 | The Faithful Bride of Granada |  |
PROLOGUE.
We're mightily afraid this Play won't do,For here's no Farce, nor yet no Gaudy Show:
Nor is't Larded or'e with Luscious Wit,
To please the Side-box Beaux, or pamper'd Cit.
Here's no grim Scandal to assault the Fair,
With Thought Offensive, or mark'd Character.
What's worse, the Play does other Faults afford,
Our Author dares not say, That Safe's the Word.
In this, alas, he owns one cursed Blot,
He has what you are sure to damn, a Plot:
And that you Modern Criticks still detest,
He who like Maiden Plots, can please you best.
But when our Author wrote, he did intend
To please himself, for that was all his End.
For the next foul Penitent that comes;
Who thinks to have his Play upheld by Rant,
Or else to please you with a Harlots Cant.
He writes without th'expence of Hope or Fear,
Whether you like or not, he does not care.
You here may damn or save, he'll never mind it;
To you he leaves it; Take it as you find it.
| The Faithful Bride of Granada | |