DRAMATIS PERSONÆ.

The scene, London.


[THE PROLOGUE.]

'Twould wrong our author to bespeak your ears;
Your persons he adores, but judgment fears:
For where you please but to dislike, he shall
Be atheist thought, that worships not his fall.
Next to not marking, 'tis his hope that you,
Who can so ably judge, can pardon too.
His conversation will not yet supply
Follies enough to make a comedy:
He cannot write by th' poll; nor act we here
Scenes, which perhaps you should see liv'd elsewhere.
No guilty line traduceth any; all
We now present is but conjectural;
'Tis a mere guess: those then will be to blame
Who make that person, which he meant but name.
That web of manners which the stage requires,
That mass of humours which poetic fires
Take in, and boil, and purge, and try, and then
With sublimated follies cheat those men
That first did vent them, are not yet his art;
But, as drown'd islands or the world's fifth part,
Lie undiscover'd; and he only knows
Enough to make himself ridiculous.
Think, then, if here you find nought can delight,
He hath not yet seen vice enough to write.

THE ORDINARY.