PROLOGUE

Pardon me sir, my office is to speak a Prologue, not to pro vide you stools. A mere stranger sir. None of the three ways I assure you. Not on his knees in a corner, to Apollo praying that his play may hold in a good hand at Passage, not on the stage amongst Gall lants, preparing a bespoke Plaudite; but close in his study writing hard, to get him a handsome suit against Summer. None I protest: Do Poets use to bespeak their Auditory. Then must our Author look for a certain disgrace, for he is altogether unfurnished of such a friendly audience. Not out of any dogged disposition, not that it figures a certain state, or private government: far be that supposition the thought of any indifferent Auditor: and the argument being a little string or Rivulet, drawn from ̄ the full strain of the right wor thy Gentleman, Sir Philip Sydneys well known Archadea, con firms it: only a Duke to make trial of certain experiments, re tires with his retinue into a Nameless desert. Now as well for fashi on sake, as that all those which have to do in that desert, are gulled in the reach of their Hope's, therefore he calls it, (and as he presumest, not improperly) The I'll of Gulls. Chaste ears would never endure it sir. Alas Gentlemen, how is't possible to content you? you will railing, and invectives, which our Author neither dares, nor affects: you baudy and scurrill jests, which neither becomes his more destie to write, nor the ear of a generous Auditory to hear: you must would swelling comparisons, and bombast Epithets, which are as fit for the body of a C edie, as Hercules shoe for the foot of a Pygmey: yet all these we must have, and all in one play; or 'tis alrea die condemned to the hell of eternal disgrace. Nay I beseech you sir, if you be his friend, stand so to him still, for he hath too many enemies already, in whose judgements, he and his labours stand excommunicate, as though unworthy to pre sent themselves in this assembly. Either see it all or none; for 'tis grown into a custom at plays, if any one rise (especially of any fashionable sort) about what serious business soever, the rest thinking it in dislike of the play, though he never thinks it, cry mew, by Jesus vild; and leave the poor heart less children to speak their Epilogue to the empty seats. You should not deal gentlemanlike with us else. None I protest sir, only in the person of Dametas he express ses to the life the monstrous and deformed shape of vice, aswell to beget a loathing of abuse, as that his villainy may give the greater lu ster to the virtuous dispositions of trueborn gentility. The misery that waits upon the pen Of the best Writers, judge it gentlemen, Let them express the very soul of wit, And want Opinions voice to countenance it, 'Tis Like the idle buzzing of a fly, Herd, not regarded: wretched Poetry: If a write mirth, 'tis Rybaldry, and mean, Scorned of chased ears. If he compose a Scene Of high writ Poesy, fitting a true stage, 'Tis counted fustian: If portick rage Strike at abuse, or open the vain of sin, He is straight informed against for libeling. Neither quick mirth, invective, nor high state, Can content all: such is the boundless hate Of a confused Audience: Then we That scarcely know the rules of Poesy Cannot escape check. Yet this our comfort is, The wise will smile to hear the impartial hiss. We neither brag, nor tremble, faint nor entreat, Our merits nothing, yet our Hope's are great, Yet this our Author bade me boldly speak, His play shall pass, let Envy swell and break, Detraction he scorns, honours the best, Ta ti for hate; thus low to all the rest.