PROLOGUE

TO THE

LOYAL BROTHER*:

OR,

THE PERSIAN PRINCE.

[BY MR. SOUTHERNE, 1682.]

POETS, like lawful monarchs, rul'd the

stage,

Till critics, like damn'd Whigs, debauch'd our

age.

Mark how they jump: critics would regulate
Our theatres, and Whigs reform our state:
Both pretend love, and both (plague rot
them!) hate.

The critic humbly feems advice to bring;
The fawning Whig petitions to the king:

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The Loyal Brother, or the Perfian Prince, Mr. Southerne's firft play, was acted at Drury-lane in 1682; a time in which the Tory intereft, after long ftruggles, carried all before it. The character of the Loyal Brother was a compliment intended for the Duke of York. This prologue is a continued invective against the Whigs. DERRICK.

But one's advice into a fatire slides ;
T'other's petition a remonftrance hides.
Thefe will no taxes give, and those no pence; 10
Critics would starve the poet, Whigs the prince.
The critic all our troops of friends difcards;
Just so the Whig would fain pull down the
guards.

Guards are illegal, that drive foes away,
As watchful fhepherds, that fright beasts of

prey.

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Kings, who difband fuch needlefs aids as thefe, Are fafe-as long as e'er their fubjects please: And that would be till next queen Befs's night: Which thus grave penny chroniclers indite.

Ver. 18. queen Befs's night:] At the King's-head tavern, the corner of Chancery-lane, and oppofite the InnerTemple-gate, the principal opponents to the court-measures and the chiefs of the Whig party affembled, under the name of the King's-head Club, and afterwards the Green-ribbon Club, from ribbons of that colour which they wore in their hats. Here they fubfcribed a guinea a-piece for a bonfire, in which the effigies of the pope was to be burnt on the 17th of November, being the anniversary of Queen Elizabeth's birth, with more than ordinary pomp; for it was heretofore an annual ceremony, usually made without any remarkable parade. The proceffion now confifted of one reprefenting the dead body of Sir Edmundbury Godfrey, carried on a horfe, with a perfon preceding it ringing a bell, to remind people of his murder: then followed a mob of fellows, dreffed like carmelites, jefuits, bifhops, cardinals, &c. and feveral boys with incenfe-pots furrounding an image of the pope, with that of the devil juft behind him,

"Like thief and parfon in a Tyburn cart."

In this manner they marched from Bishopfgate to the corner of Chancery-lane, where they committed the inoffenfive effigies to the flames; while the balconies and windows of the King'shead were filled with people of confequence, who countenanced

Sir Edmondbury firft, in woful wife,

20

Leads up the fhow, and milks their maudlin

eyes.

25

There's not a butcher's wife but dribs her part,
And pities the poor pageant from her heart;
Who, to provoke revenge, rides round the fire,
And, with a civil congé, does retire:
But guiltlef's blood to ground muft never fall;
There's Antichrift behind, to pay for all.
The punk of Babylon in pomp appears,
A lewd old gentleman of feventy years:
Whofe age in vain our mercy would implore ; 30
For few take pity on an old caft whore.
The devil, who brought him to the fhame,
takes part;

Sits cheek by jowl, in black, to cheer his heart;

Like thief and parfon in a Tyburn-cart.
The word is given, and with a loud huzza
The mitred poppet from his chair they draw:
On the flain corpse contending nations fall:
Alas! what's one poor pope among them all!

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the tumult; which, the Hon. Roger North fays, ftruck a terror upon people's fpirits. The year of acting the play, to which we have here a prologue, great additions, alterations, and expenfive improvements, were intended to be made in this proceffion, which was prevented entirely by the loyalty and vigilance of the sheriffs of the city; Sir Dudley North and Sir Peter Rich, who paraded the streets all day and the best part of the night. DERRICK,

He burns; now all true hearts your triumphs ring:

And next, for fashion, cry, God fave the king. A needful cry in midst of fuch alarms,

When forty thousand men are up

in arms.

But after he's once fav'd, to make amends, In each fucceeding health they damn his friends:

45

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So God begins, but ftill the devil ends.
What if fome one, infpir'd with zeal, should

call,

Come, let's go cry, God fave him, at White

ball?

His best friends would not like this over-care, Or think him ere the fafer for this prayer. Five praying faints are by an act allow'd; But not the whole church-militant in croud. Yet, fhould Heaven all the true petitions drain Of Prefbyterians, who would kings maintain, Of forty thoufand, five would fcarce remain.

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PROLOGUE

TO THE

KING AND QUEEN,

UPON THE

UNION OF THE TWO COMPANIES IN 1682.

SINCE faction ebbs, and rogues grow out of

fashion,

Their penny fcribes take care to inform the nation,

How well men thrive in this or that plantation:

How Penfylvania's air agrees with Quakers,
And Carolina's with Affociators:
Both e'en too good for madmen and for traitors.

Truth is, our land with faints is fo run o'er,
And every age produces fuch a ftore,

5

That now there's need of two New-Englands

more.

9

What's this, you'll fay, to us and our vocation? Only thus much, that we have left our station, And made this theatre our new plantation.