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Interest's the god they worship in their state;
And you, I take it, have not much of that. 20
Well, monarchies may own religion's name,
But ftates are atheists in their very frame.
They share a fin, and fuch proportions fall,
That, like a ftink, 'tis nothing to them all.
How they love England, you shall see this day;
No map fhews Holland truer than our play: 26.
Their pictures and infcriptions well we know;
We may be bold one medal fure to fhow.
View then their falfehoods, rapine, cruelty;
And think what once they were, they still would

be:

30

But hope not either language, plot, or art;
'Twas writ in hafte, but with an English heart:
And least hope wit; in Dutchmen that would be
As much improper, as would honefty.

EPILOGUE

TO

AMBOYNA.

A POET once the Spartans led to fight,
And made them conquer in the muse's right;
So would our poet lead you on this day,
Showing your tortur'd fathers in his play.
To one well-born the affront is worse, and more,
When he's abus'd, and baffled by a boor:
With an ill grace the Dutch their mischiefs do,
They've both ill-nature and ill-manners too.
Well may they boaft themselves an ancient na-

tion,

6

For they were bred ere manners were in fashion ; And their new commonwealth has fet them

free,

Only from honour and civility.

Venetians do not more uncouthly ride,

11

Than did their lubber ftate mankind beftride; Their fway became them with as ill a mien, 15 As their own paunches fwell above their chin: Yet is their empire no true growth, but humour, And only two kings' touch can cure the tumour.

As Cato did his Afric fruits difplay,
So we before your eyes their Indies lay:
All loyal English will, like him, conclude,
Let Cæfar live, and Carthage be fubdued !

20

PROLOGUE

SPOKEN AT

THE OPENING OF THE NEW HOUSE*,

MARCH 26, 1674.

5

A PLAIN built house, after fo long a stay,
Will fend you half unfatisfy'd away;
When, fall'n from your expected pomp, you find
A bare convenience only is defign'd.
You, who each day can theatres behold,
Like Nero's palace, fhining all with gold,
Our mean ungilded stage will scorn, we fear,
And, for the homely room, difdain the chear,
Yet now cheap druggets to a mode are grown,
And a plain fuit, fince we can make but one, 100
Is better than to be by tarnish'd gawdry

known.

* This prologue must certainly have been written for the King's company, which I fuppofe at this time might have opened their house in Drury-lane. The reflection caft upon the taste of the town in these three lines,

""Twere folly now a ftately pile to raise,

"To build a playhouse while you throw down plays, "While scenes, machines, and empty operas reign:"

is certainly levelled at the Duke's company, who had exhibited the Siege of Rhodes, and other expenfive operas, and who now were getting up Pfyche, Circe, &c, DERRICK,

They, who are by your favours wealthy made,
With mighty fums may carry on the trade :
We, broken bankers, half destroy'd by fire,
With our fmall ftock to humble roofs retire: 15

Pity our lofs, while you their pomp admire.
For fame and honour we no longer strive,
We yield in both, and only beg to live:
Unable to fupport their vaft expence,

25

Who build and treat with fuch magnificence; 20
That, like the ambitious monarchs of the age,
They give the law to our provincial stage.
Great neighbours enviously promote excess,
While they impose their splendor on the lefs.
But only fools, and they of vast estate,
The extremity of modes will imitate,
The dangling knee-fringe, and the bib-cravat.
Yet if fome pride with want may be allow'd,
We in our plainnefs may be juftly proud :
Our royal mafter will'd it fhould be fo;
Whate'er he's pleas'd to own, can need no

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Ver. 30. Our royal mafter] It is to be lamented, that after the fire of London, a magnificent theatre had not been built at the expence of the public, or of the King. Few princes have fo much encouraged theatrical fpectacles as Leo the Tenth. He ordered a magnificent ftage to be erected, and actors to be brought from Florence to Rome, to act the Mandragola of Machiavel, though a moft licentious drama, and abounding in the moft fevere ridicule on the popith ceremonies, particularly in A& V. Scene I. and A& III. Scene V.; yet this fame pope, with that inconsistency that is to be found in almost all human

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