PROLOGUE.  Spoken by M rs. Cook. 

WIth that assurance we to day address,  
As standared Beauty certain of success;  
With careless Pride at once they charm and vex,  
And scorn the little Censures of their Sex.  
Sure of the unregarded Spoil, despise  
The needless affectation of the Eyes.  
The softening Languishment that faintly warms,  
But trust alone to their resistless Charms.  
So we secured by undisputed Wit,  
Disdain the damning Malice of the Pitt.  
Nor need false Art to set great Nature off,  
Or studied tricks to force the Clap, and Laugh.  
Ye Wou'd-be Critics you are all undone,  
For here's no Theme for you to work upon.  
Faith, seem to talk to Jenney, I advise;  
Of who, like who, and how Loves Markets rise:  
Try these hard Times how to abate the Price,  
Tell her how Cheap were Damsels on the Ice!  
'Mongst City Wives and Daughters that came there,  
How far a Guinny went at Blanket-fair!  
Thus you may find some good Excuse for failing,  
Of your beloved Exercise of railing;  
That when friend cries;— how does the Play succeed,  
Dam— I hardly minded, what they did.  
We shall not your ill Nature please to Day,  
With some fond Scribblers new uncertain Play,  
Lose as vain Youth, and tiresome as dull Age,  
Or Love and Honour, that o're-runs the Stage:  
Famed and substantial Authors give this Treat,  
And 'twill be solemn! Noble all, and Great!  
Wit! sacred Wit, is all the buis'ness here,  
Great Fletcher! and the Greater Rochester!  
Now name the hardy Man one fault dares find,  
In the vast work of two such Heroe's joined.  
None but Young Strephon's soft and powerful Wit,  
Durst undertake to mend what Fletcher writ.  
Different his Heavenly Muse, yet both agree,  
To make an everlasting Harmony.  
Listen ye Virgins to his Charming Song,  
Eternal Music dwelled upon his Tongue:  
The Gods of Love and Witt inspired his Pen,  
And Love and Beauty was his Glorious Theme;  
Now Lady you may Celebrate his Name,  
Without a Scandal on your spotless Fame:  
With sighs his dear loved Memory pursue,  
And pay his Wit, what to his Eyes was due,  
'Twill please his Ghost even in th' Elysian shade,  
To find his Power has such a Conquest made.    

Epilogue  by a Person of Quality. Spoken by Mrs. Barrey. 

'TIS well the Scene is laid remote from hence,  
'Twould bring in Question else our Author's Sense.  
Two Monstrous, things produced for this our Age;  
And no where to be seen but on the Stage.  
A Woman Ravished and a great man wise,  
Nay honest too without the Least disguise.  
Another Character deserves great blame,  
A Cuckold daring to revenge his shame:  

A surly ill Natured Roman wanting wit,  
Angry when all true Englishmen submit,  
Witness the tameness of the well Horned Pit.   
Tell me ye fair ones, pray now tell me why  
For such a fault as this to bid me die:  

Should Husbands thus Command and Wives obey,  
'Twould spoil our Audience for the next New Play,  
Too many wanting who are here to day.   
For, I suppose if e'er that happen to ye,  
'Twas force prevailed you said he would undo ye.  
Struggling, cried out, but all alas in Vain,  
Like me you Underwent the Killing pain.  
Did you not pity me, Lament each groan,  
When left with the wild Emperor alone:  
I know your Tender Natures, did Partake,  
At least in Thought you suffered for my sake,  
And in my Rape bearing a friendly part,  
Each had her Valentinian in her Heart.    

Printed for Charles Tebroe.