University of Virginia Library

THE PROLOGUE.

How ! once again this fair and noble Shew!
The Poet hopes you will good-natur'd grow:
He shew'd before his Muse but to the wast;
The Jewish Harlot hopes her danger's past,
If she above cou'd ought to please you shew,
You will implicitely like all below.
The Fool is hardy who to write does dare;
As strong in brain as Sampson in his hair
He needs to be, who conquers when he writes,
The Pit Philistines, Gall'ry Girgashites.
But what Allies to aid him he does chuse?
Priests, Women Saints, and Pharasaick Jews.
You wicked Wits all Holy things despise,
More charm in 'em then you perceive there lyes.
Have you forgot since Wit was fool'd by Cant?
The Hero ruin'd by the sneaking Saint?
Saintship was making of a wicked face?
And snuffling was a certain sign of Grace?
Since by a fine distinction then in vogue,
The inward Saint was only fac'd with Rogue;
And men did subt'ly split themselves in two,
And th'outward man did all the mischief do?
If the good Brethren by a chance did fall,
In that deep pit of sin you Wenching call,
'Twas but the outward Knave that was unchast,
And Sisters sinn'd but downward from the wast;
The inward Maid as chast was as before,
And th'upper parts did sanctifie the low'r.
Thus they cou'd sin, and yet be Sisters too;
Women are Wenches straight, who sin with you.
Since those false Pharisees did works so great,
Why may not true ones do a little cheat?
Pervert your likings to these wretched Plays,
And make you for a Wit the Scribler praise.
Tub-preachers rid you all for years at least,
Pray for an hour endure a Jewish Priest;
So make the Stage successfull as the Tub,
And Criticks may succeed to Beelzebub.