Chapter XXIV: Prologue

_Gallants, our Poets have of late so us’d ye, In Play and Prologue too so much abus’d ye, That should we beg your aids, I justly fear, Ye’re so incens’d you’d hardly lend it here. But when against a common Foe we arm, Each will assist to guard his own concern. Women those charming Victors, in whose Eyes Lie all their Arts, and their Artilleries, Not being contented with the Wounds they made, Would by new Stratagems our Lives invade. Beauty alone goes now at too cheap rates; And therefore they, like Wise and Politick States, Court a new Power that may the old supply, To keep as well as gain the Victory. They’ll join the force of Wit to Beauty now, And so maintain the Right they have in you. If the vain Sex this privilege should boast, Past cure of a declining Face we’re lost. You’ll never know the bliss of Change; this Art Retrieves (when Beauty fades) the wandring Heart; And though the Airy Spirits move no more, Wit still invites, as Beauty did before. To day one of their Party ventures out, Not with design to conquer, but to scout. Discourage but this first attempt, and then They’ll hardly dare to sally out again. The Poetess too, they say, has Spies abroad, Which have dispersed themselves in every road, I’th’ Upper Box, Pit, Galleries; every Face You find disguis’d in a Black Velvet Case. My life on’t; is her Spy on purpose sent, To hold you in a wanton Compliment; That so you may not censure what she ‘as writ, Which done, they face you down ‘twas full of Wit. Thus, while some common Prize you hope to win, You let the Tyrant Victor enter in. I beg to day you’d lay that humour by, Till your Rencounter at the Nursery; Where they, like Centinels from duty free, May meet and wanton with the Enemy_.

Enter an Actress.

_How hast thou labour’d to subvert in vain, What one poor Smile of ours calls home again? Can any see that glorious Sight and say_

[Woman pointing to the ladies.

_A Woman shall not Victor prove to day? Who is’t that to their Beauty would submit, And yet refuse the Fetters of their Wit? He tells you tales of Stratagems and Spies; Can they need Art that have such powerful Eyes? Believe me, Gallants, he’as abus’d you all; There’s not a Vizard in our whole Cabal: Those are but Pickeroons that scour for prey And catch up all they meet with in their way; Who can no Captives take, for all they do Is pillage ye, then gladly let you go. Ours scorns the petty Spoils, and do prefer The Glory not the Interest of the War: But yet our Forces shall obliging prove, Imposing nought but Constancy in Love: That’s all our Aim, and when we have, it too, We’ll sacrifice it all to pleasure you_.

DRAMATIS PERSONAE.

MEN.

King, Mr. _Westwood_. _Philander_, his Son, betrothed to _Erminia_, Mr. _Smith_. _Alcippus_, Favourite, in love with _Erminia_, Mr. _Betterton_. _Orgulius_, late General, Father to _Erminia_, Mr. _Norris_. _Alcander_, Friend to the Prince, in love with _Aminta_, Mr. _Young_. _Pisaro_, Friend to the young General _Alcippus_, Mr. _Cademan_. _Falatius_, a fantastick Courtier, Mr. _Angel_. _Labree_, his Man. _Cleontius_, Servant to the Prince, and Brother Mr. _Crosby_. to _Isillia_, Page to _Pisaro_.

WOMEN.

_Galatea_, Daughter to the King, Mrs. _Jennings_. _Erminia_, Daughter to _Orgulius_, espous’d to the Mrs. _Betterton_. Prince, _Aminta_, Sister to _Pisaro_, in love with _Alcander_, Mrs. _Wright_. _Olinda_, Sister to _Alcander_, Maid of Honour to Mrs. _Lee_. the Princess, _Isillia_, Sister to _Cleontius_, Woman to _Erminia_, Mrs. _Clough_. _Lysette_, Woman to _Aminta_. Clergy, Officers, Pages and Attendants.

_Scene within the Court of_ FRANCE.