 | Don Sebastian, King of Portugal |  |
133
PROLOGUE.
Sent to the Authour by an unknown hand, and propos'd to be spoken By Mrs. Monford drest like an Officer.
Bright
Beauties who in awfull Circle sit,
And you grave Synod of the dreadfull Pit,
And you the Upper-tire of pop-gun wit.
And you grave Synod of the dreadfull Pit,
And you the Upper-tire of pop-gun wit.
Pray ease me of my wonder if you may
Is all this Crowd barely to see the play,
Or is't the Poets Execution day?
Is all this Crowd barely to see the play,
Or is't the Poets Execution day?
His breath is in your hands I will presume
But I advise you to deferr his doom:
Till you have got a better in his room.
But I advise you to deferr his doom:
Till you have got a better in his room.
And don't maliciously combine together,
As if in spight and spleen you were come hither,
For he has kept the Pen tho' lost the feather.
As if in spight and spleen you were come hither,
For he has kept the Pen tho' lost the feather.
And on my Honour Ladies I avow,
This Play was writ in Charity to you,
For such a dearth of Wit whoever knew?
This Play was writ in Charity to you,
For such a dearth of Wit whoever knew?
Sure 'tis a Judgment on this Sinfull Nation
For the abuse of so great Dispensation:
And therefore I resolv'd to change Vocation.
For the abuse of so great Dispensation:
And therefore I resolv'd to change Vocation.
For want of Petty-coat I've put on buff,
To try what may be got by lying rough:
How think you Sirs, is it not well enough?
To try what may be got by lying rough:
How think you Sirs, is it not well enough?
Of Bully Criticks I a Troup wou'd lead;
But one reply'd, thank you there's no such need.
I at Groom-Porters Sir can safer bleed.
But one reply'd, thank you there's no such need.
I at Groom-Porters Sir can safer bleed.
Another who the name of danger loaths,
Vow'd he would go, and swore me Forty Oaths,
But that his Horses were in body-cloaths.
Vow'd he would go, and swore me Forty Oaths,
But that his Horses were in body-cloaths.
134
A third cry'd, Dammy bloud, I'de be content
To push my Fortune, if the Parliament
Would but recall Claret from Banishment.
To push my Fortune, if the Parliament
Would but recall Claret from Banishment.
A Fourth (and I have done) made this excuse
I'de draw my Sword in Ireland Sir to chuse:
Had not their Women gouty leggs and wore no shoes?
I'de draw my Sword in Ireland Sir to chuse:
Had not their Women gouty leggs and wore no shoes?
Well, I may march thought I and fight and trudge,
But of these blades the Devill a man will budge,
They there would fight e'n just as here they judge.
But of these blades the Devill a man will budge,
They there would fight e'n just as here they judge.
Here they will pay for leave to find a fault,
But when their Honour calls they can't be bought,
Honour in danger, bloud and wounds is sought.
But when their Honour calls they can't be bought,
Honour in danger, bloud and wounds is sought.
Lost Virtue whether fled, or where's thy dwelling,
Who can reveal, at least 'tis past my telling,
Unless thou art Embarkt for Iniskelling.
Who can reveal, at least 'tis past my telling,
Unless thou art Embarkt for Iniskelling.
On Carrion tits those Sparks denounce their rage
In boot of wisp and Leinster freese ingage,
What would you do in such an Equipage?
In boot of wisp and Leinster freese ingage,
What would you do in such an Equipage?
The Siege of Derry does you Gallants threaten:
Not out of Errant shame of being beaten,
As fear of wanting meat or being eaten.
Not out of Errant shame of being beaten,
As fear of wanting meat or being eaten.
Were Wit like honour to be won by fighting
How few just Judges would there be of writing,
Then you would leave this Villanous back-biting.
How few just Judges would there be of writing,
Then you would leave this Villanous back-biting.
Your Talents lye how to express your spight,
But where is he knows how to praise aright,
You praise like Cowards but like Criticks fight.
But where is he knows how to praise aright,
You praise like Cowards but like Criticks fight.
Ladies be wise, and wean these yearling Calves
Who in your Service too are meer faux-braves,
They Judge and write and fight, and—Love by halves.
Who in your Service too are meer faux-braves,
They Judge and write and fight, and—Love by halves.
| Don Sebastian, King of Portugal | |