Chapter XIX: Prologue

_Madams, you're welcome; though our poet show A severe brow, it is not meant to you. Your virtues, like your features, they are such, They neither can be priz'd nor prais'd too much: Lov'd and admir'd wheres'ever you are known, Scorning to mix Platonics with your own: Sit with a pleasing silence, and take view Of forms vermillion'd in another hue. Who make free traffic of their nuptial bed, As if they had of fancy surfeited: Who come not here to hear our comic scenes, But to complete imaginary dreams With realler conceptions. If you mind them, Their new loves stand before, old loves behind them: And from that prospect this_ impresa _read, Rich pearls show best when they are set in lead. Such be your blameless beauties, which comply With no complexion but a native dye, Apt for a spousal hug, and, like rich ore, Admit one choice impression and no more. Those faces only merit our esteem, Seem what they be, and be the same they seem. For they who beauty clothe with borrow'd airs, May well disclaim them, being none of theirs. Here shall you see Nature adorn'd with skill, And if this do not please, sure, nothing will._