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With thefe perfections, and what else he gieans,
The fpark fets up for love behind our scenes;
Hot in pursuit of princeffes and queens.

There, if they know their man, with cunning carriage,
Twenty to one but it concludes in marriage.

He hires fome homely room, love's fruits to gather,.
And garret-high rebels againft his father:

But he once dead

Brings her in triumph, with her portion, down,
A toilet, dreffing-box, and half a crown.

Some marry first, and hen they fall to fcowering,,
Which is, refining marriage into whoring.

Our women batten well on their good-nature;
All they can rap and rend for the dear creature.
But while abroad fo liberal the dolt is,

Poor spouse at home as ragged as a colt is.
Last, some there are, who take their first degrees,
Of lewdness in our middle galleries.

The doughty bullies enter bloody drunk,
Invade and grubble one another's punk ::

They caterwaul, and make a difmal rout,

Call fons of whores, and ftrike, but ne'er lug out:
Thus while for paltry punk they roar and stickle,
They make it bawdier than a conventicle.

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XXVI.

PROLOGUE to the KING and QUEEN, upon the Union of the Two Companies in 1686.

INCE faction ebbs, and rogues grow out of fashion,

SINCE

Their penny-fcribes take care t' inform the nation, How well men thrive in this or that plantation :

How Penfylvania's air agrees with Quakers,
And Carolina's with Affociators :

Both ev'n too good for madmen and for traitors.

Truth is, our land with faints is fo run o'er,
And every age produces fuch a store,

That now there's need of two New-Englands more.

What's this, you'll fay, to us and our vocation?
Only thus much, that we have left our station,
And made this theatre our new plantation.

The factious natives never could agree;
But aiming, as they call'd it, to be free,
Those play-house Whigs fet up for property.

Some fay, they no obedience paid of late;
But would new fears and jealousies create;
Till topfy-turvy they had turn'd the state.

Plain fenfe, without the talent of foretelling,

Might guefs 'twould end in downright knocks and

quelling:

For feldom comes there better of rebelling.

When

When men will, needlefsly, their freedom barter
For lawless power, fometimes they catch a Tartar;
There's a damn'd word that rhymes to this, call'd
Charter.

But, fince the victory with us remains,
You fhall be call'd to twelve in all our gains;
If you'll not think us faucy for our pains.

Old men shall have good old plays to delight them :
And you, fair ladies and gallants, that flight them,
We'll treat with good new plays; if our new wits can
write them.

We'll take no blundering verfe, no fuftian tumor,
No dribbling love, from this or that presumer;
No dull fat fool shamm'd on the stage for humour.

For, faith, fome of them fuch vile stuff have made,
As none but fools or fairies ever play'd;
But 'twas, as fhopmen fay, to force a trade.

We've given you Tragedies, all fenfe defying,
And finging men, in woful metre dying;
This 'tis when heavy lubbers will be flying.

All thefe difafters we well hope to weather;
We bring you none of our old lumber hither:
Whig poets and Whig sheriffs may hang together.

XXVII. EPILOGUE

XXVII.

EPILOGUE on the fame Occafion.

NEW minifters, when first they get in place,

Must have a care to please; and that's our cafe : Some laws for public welfare we design,

If you, the power fupreme, will pleafe to join :
There are a fort of prattlers in the pit,

Who either have, or who pretend to wit:
Thefe noify firs fo loud their parts rehearse,
That oft the play is filenc'd by the farce.
Let fuch be dumb, this penalty to shun,
Each to be thought my lady's eldest son.

But ftay methinks fome vizard mask I fee,

:

Caft out her lure from the mid gallery :

About her all the fluttering fparks are rang'd;
The noise continues though the fcene is chang'd:
Now growling, fputtering, wauling, such a clutter,
'Tis juft like pufs defendant in a gutter:

Fine love, no doubt; but ere two days are o'er ye,
The furgeon will be told a woful story.

Let vizard matk her naked face expofe,

On pain of being thought to want a nose:
Then for your lacqueys, and your train befide,
By whate'er name or title dignify'd,

They roar fo loud, you'd think behind the stairs.
Tom Dove, and all the brotherhood of bears:
They 're grown a nufance, beyond all difafters;
We've none fo great but their unpaying matters.

We

We beg you, firs, to beg your men, that they Would pleafe to give you leave to hear the play. Next in the play-houfe fpare your precious lives; Think, like good chriftians, on your bearns and wives & Think on your fouls; but by your lugging forth, It seems you know how little they are worth. If none of thefe will move the warlike mind, Think on the helpless whore you leave behind. We beg you, laft, our fcene-room to forbear, And leave our goods and chattels to our care. Alas! or women are but washy toys, And wholly taken up in ftage employs : Poor willing tits they are: but yet I doubt This double duty foon will wear them cut. Then you are watch'd befides with jealous care; What if my lady's page should find you there? My lady knows t' a tittle what there 's in ye; No paffing your gilt fhilling for a guinea. Thus, gentlemen, we have fumm'd up in fhort Our grievances, from country, town, and court : Which humbly we fubmit to your good pleasure; But first vote money, then redrefs at leifure.

XXVIII.

PROLOGUE to the PRINCESS of CLEVES. [By Mr. N. LE E, 1689.]

LADIES! (I hope there's none behind to hear) I long to whisper fomething in your ear:

A fecret

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