That facred name gives ornament and grace, plays, 35 While fcenes, machines, and empty operas reign, And for the pencil you the pen difdain : drive, And laugh at those upon whose alms they live: Old English authors vanish, and give place 40 To these new conquerors of the Norman race. More tamely than your fathers you submit ; You're now grown vaffals to them in your wit. Mark, when they play, how our fine fops ad vance, The mighty merits of their men of France, 45 Keep time, cry Bon, and humour the cadence. Well, please yourselves; but fure 'tis underftood, That French machines have ne'er done England good. characters, addreffed a folemn brief to Sannazarius, thanking him for his famous poem, De Partu Virginis, and alfo Provi dence, for raifing up fuch a champion, at a time when the Holy Church was fo violently attacked, and in fuch danger. Dr. J. WARton. I would not prophefy our house's fate : But while vain shows and fcenes you you over-rate, 'Tis to be fear'd That as a fire the former house o'erthrew, Machines and tempefts will destroy the new. 51 PROLOGUE TO THE UNIVERSITY OF OXFORD, 1674. SPOKEN BY MR. HART *. POETS, your fubjects, have their parts af fign'd To unbend, and to divert their fovereign's mind: When tir'd with following nature, you think fit To feek repose in the cool shades of wit, And, from the sweet retreat, with joy furvey 5 What refts, and what is conquer'd, of the way. Here, free yourselves from envy, care, and ftrife, You view the various turns of human life; Several gentlemen, who had adhered to their principles of loyalty during the ufurpation of Cromwell, and the exile of the Royal Family, being left unprovided for at the Restoration, they applied themfelves to different occupations for a livelihood: among them was Mr. Hart, the speaker of this prologue, who had ferved his Majefty as a captain in the civil war, and was now an actor in a capital caft, and in great eftimation. DERRICK, Safe in our scene, through dangerous courts you go, And, undebauch'd, the vice of cities know. 10 And man, the little world, before you fet, As once the sphere of chryftal fhew'd the great. Bleft fure are you above all mortal kind, 15 If to your fortunes you can fuit your mind: 20 May be renew'd from thofe who gave them fame. None of our living poets dare appear; eye, 25 And, as prophane, from facred places fly, 31 Poets must stoop, when they would please our pit, Debas'd even to the level of their wit; Difdaining that, which yet they know will take, Hating themselves what their applause must make. 35 But when to praise from you they would aspire, Though they like eagles mount, your Jove is higher. So far your knowledge all their power tranfcends, As what should be beyond what is extends. |