 | Beauties Triumph |  |
Prologue, spoken by a young Lady.
Ladies,
Good Appetites excuse a homely Treat;
This was intended for our selves alone,
From whom our Masters fear'd no cens'ring frown:
But aw'd, and dazl'd by your piercing eyes,
(For, though expected, you like Death surprize)
They humbly bow,—and and beg a kind excuse,
For straiten'd time, and a disorder'd House;
Hoping, the want of practice, fitting dress,
And glorious Scenes, may make our failings less:
As if defects could purchase good success.
This might appease an accidental Guest;
But you'r invited, and expect a Feast:
Enlarged hopes, and longing looks y'have brought,
Fine Dances, Songs, and Shew, swell ev'ry thought:
Such things our Masters meant; but strove so fast
To win the prize, we fall with too much hast.
Like eager Gard'ners, that make Nature post
The Flow'rs to early births, which being forc'd,
Their sweet perfume and native beautie's lost.
If we miscarry, let them feel the smart,
They hardly gave us time to read a Part:
Yet—if w'are out,—I fear 'twill break my heart.—
Courage! be gone dull fear, and sullen doubt:
The Cause! the Cause we fight shall bear us out.
Beauties Triumph,—Beauty! your joy and care,
The crown of Peace, and the reward of War.
Ladies, Your int'rest your assistance calls;
Your Empire's lost if Beauties Triumph falls:
If any Lover his applause denies,
Kill the Rebel,—stab him with your eyes.
Sound a charge,—we'l nor take no quarter,
She that falls is Educations Martyr.
Musik flourish.
| Beauties Triumph | |