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PROLOGUE, TO THE CUTTER OF COLEMAN-STREET, As when the midland sea is po where clear From dreadful fleets of Tunis and Argier, Which coast abont, to all they meet with foes, And opon which nought can be got but blows, The merchant ships so much their passage doubt, 5 That, tho' full-freighted, none dares venture out, And trade decays, and scarcity ensues : Just fo the tim'rous wits of late refuse, Tho'laded, to put forth upon the stage, Affrighted by the critics of this age.

IO It is a party num'rous, watchful, bold; They can from nought, which fails in sight, with-hold. Nor do their cheap, tho' mortal, thunder fpape; They shoot, alas! with wind-guns charg'd with air. But yet, Gentlemen Critics of Argier,

IS For your own int’rest I'd advise ye hore To let this little forlorn hope go by, Safe and untouch'd. That must not be, you'll cry. If ye be wise it must; I'll tell ye why.

19 There are sev’n, eight, nine, --stay-- there are beTen plays at least, which wait but for a wind, [hind And the glad news that we the en’my miss, And those are all your own if you spare this. Some are but new trimm'd up, others quite new, Some by known shipwrights built, and others too 23

By that great Author made, whoe'er he be,
That styles himself Person of Quality.
All these, if we miscarry here to-day,
Will rather till they rot in th' harbour stay;
Nay, they will back again, tho' they were come 30
Ev'n to their last safe road, the Tiring-room.
Therefore again I say, if you be wisez
Let this for once pass free, let it suffice
That we; your sov'reign pow'r here to avow;
Thus humbly, cre we pass, strike fail to you. 35

ADDED ÅT COURT. Stay, Gentlemen; what I have said, was all Bat forc'd submission, which I now recall.

Ye 're all but pirates now again; for here . Does the true Sov'reign of the feas appear, The sov’reign of these narrow seas of wit; 'Tis his own Thames;, he knows and governs it. ?Tis his dominion and domain ; as he Pleases 'tis either shụt to us or free. Not only if his passport we obtain, We fear no little rovers of the main ; But if our Neptunc his calm visage Now, No wave Mall dare to rise, or wind to blow.

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244

PROLOGUES AND EPILOGUES.

PROLOGUES AND EPILOGUES.

245

EPILOGUE.

SPOKEN BY CUTTER.

rage,

METHINKS
LETHINKS a vision bids me silence break,

...[Without his peruke.
And some words to this congregation speak;
So great and gay a one' l' ne'er did meet
At the fifth monarchi's court in Coleman-street:
But yet I wonder much not to elpy a

5
Brother in all this court call'd Zephaniah.
Bless me! where are we? what may this place be?
For I begin my vision now to see
That this is a mere theatre; well, then,
Ji't be e'en so, I'll Cutter be again. [Put's on his peruke.
Not Cutter the pretended Cavalier,
For to confess ingenuously here
To you, who always of that party'were,
I never was of any; up and down
I roll'd, a very rake-hell of this Towij.

IS
But now my follies and my faults are ended,
My fortune and my mind are both amended,
And if we may believe one who has fail'd before,
Our Author says he'll mend, that is, he'll write no

19

EPILOGUE AT COURT.
Tae mhaddiefs of your people, and the
You'ave seen too long upon the public stage ;
*Tis time at last, Great Sir ! 'tis time to see
Their tragic follies brought to comedy,
If any blame the lowness of our feene,
We bumbly think some persons there have been
On the world's theatre not long ago,
Much more too high, than here they are too low.
And well we know that Comedy of old
Did her plebeian rank with so much honour hold, 10
That it appear'd not then too base or light
For the great Scipio's conqu’ring hand to write.
Howe'er, if such imean perfons seem too rude,
When into royal presence they intrude,
Yet we shall hope a pardon to receive
From you, a Prince so practis'd to forgive;
A Prince who, with th' applause of earth and hear'n,
The rudeness of the vulgar has forgiv'n.

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IS

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EPILOGUE AT COURT.
The madness of your people, and the rage,
You ’ave seen too long upon the public stage;
'Tis time at last, Great Sir ! 'tis time to see
Their tragic follies brought to comedy.
If any blame the lowness of our scene,

ş
We humbly think some persons there have been
On the world's theatre not long ago,
Much more too high, than here they are too low.
And well we know that Comedy of old
Did her plebeian rank with so much honour hold, 10
That it appear'd not then too base or light"
For the great Scipio's conqu’ring hand to writç.
Howe'er, if such mean persons seem too rude,
When into royal presence they intrude,
Yet we shall hope a pardon to receive

IS
From you, a Prince so practis'd to forgive;
A Prince who, with th' applause of earth and heav'n,
The rudeness of the vulgar has forgiv'n.

18

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CONTENTS

Page
Tae life of the Author, written to Mr. M: Clif-

ford,
The preface of the Author,
Advertisement,

o the Reader,

To the Right Hon. and Right Rev. Father in God,

John, Lord Bishop of Lincoln, and Dean of

Weltminster,

To the memory of the incomparable Mr.Cowley, 62

To the memory of the Author,

64

On Mr. Cowley's juvenile poems, &c.

66

On the death of Mr. Abraham Cowley, and his

borial in Westminster-Abbey,
Ode upon the death of Mr. Cowley,
On Mr. Abraham Cowley's death and burial
amongst the ancient poets. By the Hon. Sir
John Denham,

77

Elegia Dedicatoria, ad illuftriflimam academiam

Cantabrigienfem,

MISCELLANIES,

Constantia and Philetus,
Pyramus and Thisbe, addressed to the Right Wor-

Thipful Mr.Lambert Olbolston, chief master of
Weltmiuster-school,

83

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