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Such works, of old, imperial dames were taught ; Such for Ascanius fair Eliza wrought.

The soft recesses of your hours improve The three fair pledges of your happy love : All other parts of pious duty done,

165

You owe your Ormond nothing but a son,
To fill, in future times, his father's place,

And wear the garter of his mother's race.

168

Volume III.

H

1.

PROLOGUE. Spoken the first day of the King's house acting after the fire.

So shipwreck'd passengers escape to land,

So look they, when on the báre beach they stand Dropping and cold, and their first fear scarce o'er, Expecting famine on a desart shore.

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From that hard climate we must wait for bread,
Whence e'en the natives, forc'd by hunger, fled.
Our stage does human chance present to view,
But ne'er before was seen so sadly true :
You are chang'd too, and your pretence to see
Is but a nobler name for charity.
Your own provisions furnish out our feasts,
While you
the founders make yourselves the guests.
Of all mankind beside Fate had some care,

15.

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But for poor Wit no portion did prepare:
'Tis left a rent-charge to the brave and fair.
You cherish'd it, and now its fall you mourn,
Which blind unmanner'd zealots make their scorn,
Who think that fire a judgment on the stage,
Which spar'd not temples in its furious rage.

*These Prologues and Epilogues are, as nearly as we could prove, here printed in their order of time; and for the dates of many of them we are particularly obliged to Mr.Garrick, who, with great civility, gave us the use of his fine Collection of old Quarto Plays. Advert, to Drydon's Miscellanies, edit. 1760. in volumes octavo.

But as our new-built City rises higher,
So from old theatres may new aspire,
Since Fate contrives magnificence by fire.
Our great metropolis does far surpass
Whate'er is now, and equals all that was.
Our wit as far does foreign wit excel,
And like a king, should in a palace dwell.
But we with golden hopes are vainly fed,
Talk high, and entertain you in a shed.
Your presence here, for which we humbly sue,
Will grace old theatres, and build up new.

11.

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30

PROLOGUE, Spoken at the opening of the New house,
March 26, 1674.

A PLAIN-built house, after so long a stay,
Will send you half unsatisfy'd away;

When, fall'n from your expected pomp, you find
A bare convenience only is design'd.
You, who each day can theatres behold,
Like Nero's palace, shining all with gold,
Our mean ungilded stage will scorn, we fear,
And for the homely room disdain the cheer.
Yet now cheap druggets to a mode are grown,
And a plain suit (since we can make but one) to
Is better than to be by tarnish'd gaud'ry known.
They who are by your favours wealthy made
With mighty sums may carry on the trade;

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We, broken bankers, half destroy'd by fire,
With our small stock to humble roofs retire; 15
Pity our loss, while you their pomp admire.
For fame and honour we no longer strive,
We yield in both, and only beg to live:
Unable to support their vast expense,
Who build and treat with such magnificence,
That, like th' ambitious monarchs of the age,
They give the law to our provincial stage.
Great neighbours enviously promote excess,
While they impose their splendour on the less:
But only fools, and they of vast estate,
Th' extremity of modes will imitate,
The dangling knee-fringe and the bib-cravat.
Yet if some pride with want may be allow'd,
We in our plainness may be justly proud:

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20

Our Royal Master will'd it should be so;
Whate'er he's pleas'd to own can need no show:
That sacred name gives ornament and grace,
And, like his stamp, makes basest metals pass.
'Twere folly now a stately pile to raise,

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To build a playhouse while you throw down plays;
While scenes, machines, and empty operas reign,
And for the pencil you the pen disdain;
While troops of famish'd Frenchmen hither drive,
And laugh at those upon whose alms they live,
Old English authors vanish, and give place
To these new conqu'rors of the Norman race:

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More tamely than your fathers you submit ;
You're now grown vassals to 'em in your wit.
Mark, when they play, how our fine fops advance"
The mighty merits of their men of France.

Keep time, cry Bon, and humour the cadence.

45

Well please yourselves; but sure 'tis understood That French machines have ne'er done England good. I would not prophesy our House's fate;

But while vain shows and scenes you over-rate, 50 'Tis to be fear'd

"That as a fire the former House o'erthrew,

Machines and tempests will destroy the New. 53

III.

PROLOGUE to the University of Oxford, 1674. Spoken by
Mr. HART.

PozTs, your subjects, have their parts assign'd
T' unbend and to divert the sov❜reign's mind:
When, tir'd with following Nature, you think fit
To seek repose in the cool shades of Wit,
And, from the sweet retreat, with joy survey
What rests, and what is conquer'd, of the way;
Here, free yourselves from envy, care, and strife,
You view the various turns of human life:
Safe in our scene, thro' dang'rous courts you go,
And undebauch'd the vice of cities know.

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