THE PROLOGUE AND EPILOGUE To the NEW COMEDY, CALLED, Sir Courtly Nice, or, It Cannot be.  

The PROLOGUE.  

WHat are the Charms by which these happy Isles,  
Have gained Heavens brightest, and Eternal Smiles?  
What Nation upon Earth besides our own,  
But by a loss like ours had been undone?  
Ten Ages scarce such Royal worth display,  
As England Lost, and Found, in one strange day.  
One hour in Sorrow and Confusion hurled,  
And yet the next the Envy of the World.  
Nay, we are Blest in Spite of us, 'tis known,  
Heaven's Choice for us, was better than our own.  
To stop the Blessings that o'erflow this day,  
What heaps of Rogues we piled up in the way?  
We chose fit Tools against all good to strive,  
The Sauciest, Lewdest Protestant's alive.  
They would have formed a Blessed Church indeed,  
Upon a Turncoat Doctors Lying Creed;  
To know if e'er he took Degree is hard,  
'Tis thought he'll have one in the Palace-Yard.  
Plot-Swallowers sure, will Drink no more Stuff down,  
From that foul Pitcher, when his Ears are gone.  
Let us Rely on Conscience, not on Cheats,  
On Heaven's Wisdom, not State-Juglers Feats.  
How greatly Heaven has our loss supplied?  
'Tis no small Virtue Heals a Wound so wide:  
Nay, in so little time to Rear our Head,  
To our own Wonder, and our Neighbours dread.  
They see that Valour Crowned with Regal Power,  
They have oft seen with Laurels Crowned before.  
Verse is too Narrow for so great a Name;  
Far sounding Seas hourly repeat his Fame.  
Our Neighbours Vanquished Fleets oft wafted o'er,  
His Name to theirs, and many a Trembing Shore.  
And we may go by his great Conduct Led,  
As far in Fame as our Forefathers did.  
At Home, he milder ways to Glory chose;  
Godlike, by Patience, he Subdued his Foes:  
Now they, and their Designs are Ruined all,  
Beneath their fallen accursed Excluding Wall:  
These are not all the Blessings of this Isle,  
Heaven on our Nation in a Queen doth Smile,  
Whose Virtues, Graced by Beauty, shine so bright,  
All the Fair Sex to Virtue she'll Invite,  

And all our Clouds turn to a Glorious day,  
By this Illustrious pairs United Ray,  
Who both Reform and Grace us by their Sway.     

The EPILOGUE.  

TO plead for Freedom in so free a time,  
May seem Impertinent, if not a Crime.  
The Circling Sea, gives Limits to our Shores,  
But nothing bounds our Rabble, Wives, or Whores.  
In Spite of all Indulgent Sway can do,  
Our Crowd, their Lust of Faction will pursue,  
And either Sex will to their Joys go on,  
Scorning all ills to Honour, Purse, or Bone.  
Nay, Parents now, not only can endure  
Their children's Faults, but which is worse, procure,  
Of Old, Proud Mo●her, full of Parent Sway,  
Kept Miss a Vassal to her work all day;  
And to the Wooing Spark, Miss was not brought,  
But some fine Golden thing, her Needle wrought.  
Now you shall meet Young Lady and her Mother,  
Rambling in Hackney-Coaches, Masqued together.  
Yes, and to Speak the Truth, to work they go,  
Fine work, but such as they will never show;  
Except some Net to draw a Fool to Wed,  
And then he finds Miss rare at work— a Bed.  
Nay, we have gotten other Schools of late,  
As Masquerades, and the Jews Chocolate.  

There Fowler like, a watching Gallant pores,  
Behind his Glove, to get a Shot at Whores,  
Whose Coach and Bones comes Rattling to the Doors.   
Nearer he creeps, discharges some kind words,  
And off he carries straight the wounded Birds.  
Another Gallant waits in the great Room,  
Till a New Cargazon of Strumpets come;  
And there with his own Face he Treats his Eyes;  
What need he see, he can Act Comedies?  
There by four Glasses placed, as for the nonce,  
Sir Sparkish Acts four Coxcombs all at once.  
Our Galleries were finely used of late,  
Where Roosting Masques sat Cackling for a Mate;  
They came not to see Plays, but Act their own,  
And had thronged Audiences when we had none:  
Both Pit and Gallery was a Strumpet Fair,  
Where Higling Whores, Sold Rotten Pumpions dear.  
This Comedy throws all this Lewdness down,  
For Virtuous Liberty it pleads alone;  
Promotes the Stage tothth' ends at first designed,  
At once to Profit and Delight the Mind.     

LONDON, Printed for Tho. Benskin at the Corner Shop i● Little-Lincolns-Inn-Fields. 1685.