PROLOGUE TO THE INDIAN QUEEN. As the mufic plays a foft air, the curtain rises flowly, and discovers 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! Where bounteous nature never feels decay, 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. 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. 11 QUE. If these be they, we welcome then our doom! Their looks are fuch, that mercy flows from thence, More gentle than our native innocence. 15 Box. Why should we then fear these, 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 best by our success. EPILOGUE TO THE INDIAN QUEEN. SPOKEN BY MONTEZUMA. YOU fee what fhifts we are enforc'd to try, Shows may be found that never yet were seen, fhow, 11 The poet's scenes, nay, more, the painter's too; If all this fail, confidering the cost, 'Tis a true voyage to the Indies loft: But if you fmile on all, then these designs, 15 EPILOGUE TO THE INDIAN EMPEROUR. BY A MERCURY. TO all and fingular in this full meeting, Ladies and gallants, Phœbus fends ye greeting. To all his fons, by whate'er title known, Whether of court, or coffee-house, or town; From his moft mighty fons, whofe confidence 5 Is plac'd in lofty found, and humble sense, Even to his little infants of the time, Who write new fongs, and truft in tune and rhime: Be't known, that Phoebus (being daily grieved All proves, and moves, and loves, and honours too; All that appears high fenfe, and fcarce is low. As for the coffee-wits, he fays not much; Their proper bufinefs is to damn the Dutch: 20 For the great dons of wit-- Phoebus gives them full privilege alone, They should have power to fave, but not to kill: |