PROLOGUE.
I.
He who writ this, not without pains and thought,
From French and English theatres has brought
The exactest rules, by which a play is wrought.
II.
The unities of action, place, and time;
The scenes unbroken; and a mingled chime
Of Jonson's humour, with Corneille's rhyme.
III.
But while dead colours he with care did lay,
He fears his wit, or plot, he did not weigh,
Which are the living beauties of a play.
IV.
Plays are like towns, which, howe'er fortified
By engineers, have still some weaker side,
By the o'er-seen defendant unespied.
V.
And with that art you make approaches now;
Such skilful fury in assaults you show,
That every poet without shame may bow.
VI.
Ours, therefore, humbly would attend your doom,
If, soldier-like, he may have terms to come,
With flying colours, and with beat of drum.
The Prologue goes out, and stays while a tune is played, after which he returns again.