A PROLOGUE spoken at MITHRIDATES' King of PONTUS, the First Play Acted at the THEATRE ROYAL this Year, 1681.  
AFter a four Months Fast we hope at length  
Your queasy Stomaches have recovered strength  
That You can taste a Play (your old coarse Messe)  
As honest and as plain as an Address.  
And therefore Welcome from your several Parts,  
You that have gained kind Country Wenches Hearts:  
Have watched returning Milkmaids in the Dark,  
And sinned against the Pales of every Park.  
Welcome fair Ladies of unblemished Faith,  
That left Town Bagnio's for the fruitful Bath;  
For when the Seasons Hot, and Lover's there,  
The Waters never fail to get an Heir.  
Welcome kind Men that did your Wives attend,  
And Welcome He that was the Husband's Friend,  
Who holding Chat did silently Encroach,  
With Treacherous Hand to grabble in the Coach.  
Hail you Newmarket Brothers of the Switches,  
That leap left Strumpets, full of Pox and Itch,  
A leap more dangerous than the Devil's Ditch.  
Last Welcome you who never did appear;  
Gave out i'th' Country, but lay fluxing here.  
Now Crawl abroad with Stick, lean-chapped and thin,  
And Fair as Lady that hath new lain in;  
This Winter let us reckon you our own,  
For all Wise Men will let the State alone:  
The Plot's removed, a Witness of Renown  
Has lodged it safe, at the other End o'th' Town,  
And that it ne'er may fail, some pious Whore  
Has cast her Mite, and fairly at his Door  
Laid two small squalling Evidences more;  
Which well instructed, if we take their words,  
In time may grow to hang two Popish Lords;  
Heaven Grant the Babes may Live, for Faith there's need,  
Swearers fall off so fast, if none succeed  
The Land's in danger quite to lose the breed.  
Unless you break an Act, which were a Sin,  
And for recruit let Irish Cattle in.  
Well; after all 'twere better to Compound,  
Then let the foolish Frolic still go round,  
Both sides have lost and by my Computation  
None but Jack Catch has gained in the Nation.   

EPILOGUE.  
POX on this Playhouse, 'tis an old tired Jade,  
'Twill do no longer, we must force a Trade;  
What if we all turn Witness of the Plot?  
That's overstockt, there's nothing to be got.  
Shall we take Orders? That will Parts require,  
And Colleges give no Degrees for Hire,  
Would Salamancha was a little nigher.  
Will nothing do? Oh now 'tis found I hope;  
Have not you seen the Dancing of the Rope?  
When Andrew's Wit was clean run off the Score,  
And Jacob's capering Tricks could do no more,  
A Damsel does to the Ladders Top advance  
And with two heavy Buckets drags a Dance;  
The Yawning Crowd parched up to see the sight,  
And slav'red at the Mouth for vast Delight:  
Oh Friends there's nothing to Enchant the Mind,  
Nothing like that sweet Sex to draw Mankind:  
The Foundered Horse that switching will not stir,  
Trots to the Mare, afore without a Spur.  
Faith I'll go scour the Scene-room and Engage  
Some Toy within to save the falling Stage.  Exit. Reenters with Mrs. Cox. 
Who have we here again, what Nymphsi'th ' Stocks?  
Your most Obedient Servant, sweet Madam Cox.  
You'd best be Coy, and Blush for a pretence,  
For Shame say something in your own Defence.  Mrs. Cox, 
What shall I say? I have been hence so long  
I've e'en almost forgot my Mother Tongue;  
If I can Act I wish I were ten Fathom  
Beneath—  M. Goodman. 
— Oh Lord, Pray, no swearing, Madam;  Mrs. Cox, 
Why Sir, If I had sworn, to say the Nation  
I could find out some Mental Reservation.  
Well in plain Terms, Gallants, without a Shame,  
Will you be pleased to take me as I am.  
Quite out of Countenance, with a down cast look,  
Just like a Truant that returns to Book:  
Yet I'm not old, but if I were this place  
ne'er wanted Art to piece a ruin'd Face.  
When Greybeards Governed I forsook the Stage,  
You know 'tis piteous work to Act with Age;  
Though there's no sex amongst these Beardless Boys,  
There's what we Women love, that's Mirth & Noise,  
These young Beginners may grow up in time,  
And the Devil's in't if I'm past my Prime.   

London, Printed for J. Sturton.