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PROLOGUE

TO THE

RIVAL LADIES.

'TIS much defir'd, you judges of the town Would pafs a vote to put all prologues down; For who can fhow me, fince they firft were writ, They e'er converted one hard-hearted wit? Yet the world's mended well; in former days 5 Good prologues were as fcarce as now good plays.

For the reforming poets of our age,

In this first charge, fpend their poetic rage:
Expect no more when once the prologue's done;
The wit is ended ere the play's begun.
You now have habits, dances, fcenes, and

rhimes;

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High language often; ay, and sense, sometimes.
As for a clear contrivance, doubt it not;
They blow out candles to give light to th' plot.
And for furprise, two bloody-minded men
Fight till they die, then rife and dance again.

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Such deep intrigues you're welcome to this day: But blame yourselves, not him who writ the play;

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Though his plot's dull, as can be well desired,
Wit ftiff as any you have e'er admired:
He's bound to please, not to write well; and
knows,

There is a mode in plays as well as clothes;
Therefore, kind judges

A SECOND PROLOGUE ENTERS.

2. Hold; would you admit

For judges all you fee within the pit?

1. Whom would he then except, or on what

fcore?

2. All, who (like him) have writ ill plays be

fore;

For they, like thieves condemn'd, are hangmen

made,

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To execute the members of their trade.
All that are writing now he would disown,
But then he must except-even all the town;
All cholerick, lofing gamefters, who, in fpite,
Will damn to day, because they loft last
night;

All fervants, whom their miftrefs' fcorn up

braids;

All maudlin lovers, and all flighted maids;
All, who are out of humour, or fevere;
All, that want wit, or hope to find it here.

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PROLOGUE

TO THE

INDIAN QUEEN.

As the mufic plays a soft air, the curtain rifes flowly, and difcovers an Indian boy and girl fleeping under two plantain-trees; and, when the curtain is almost up, the mufic turns into a tune expreffing an alarm, at which the boy awakes, and speaks:

BOY. WAKE, wake, Quevira! our soft rest

muft cease,

And fly together with our country's peace!
No more must we fleep under plantain shade,
Which neither heat could pierce, nor cold in-
vade;

Where bounteous nature never feels decay, 5
And opening buds drive falling fruits away.
QUE. Why fhould men quarrel here, where
all poffefs

As much as they can hope for by fuccefs?— None can have moft, where nature is fo kind, As to exceed man's use, though not his mind.

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Boy. By ancient prophecies we have been told, Our world shall be fubdued by one more old ;And, fee, that world already's hither come. QUE. If these be they, we welcome then our doom!

Their looks are such, that mercy flows from thence,

More gentle than our native innocence.

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Boy. Why fhould we then fear thefe, our enemies,

That rather feem to us like deities?

QUE. By their protection, let us beg to live; They came not here to conquer, but forgive.— If fo, your goodness may your power express, And we shall judge both beft by our fuccess.

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