The PROLOGUE and EPILOGUE to the New COMEDY, called, The English friar, Or, The Town Sparks.  

licenced,  
March 17. 1689. J. F.   

The PROLOGUE.  

HEaven to the Muses well may coin deny;  
Pleasures attend on 'em, no Gold can buy.  
Our Poet even in Poetry is poor,  
Yet he so charming finds his little Store,  
All England seems to him, less rich than he;  
For he's content,— which England never will be.  
All Sects and Parties lend him Stuff for Plays,  
And his Delight, though not his Fortune, raise.  
Goods borrowed thus, he does not long retain,  
But on the Stage, brings Fools and Knaves again  
To those that lent 'em, that they may have Use,  
Profit and Pleasure of their own produce.  
To Day, he does make bold, a Farce to show,  
Priests made, and acted here, some Months ago.  
They turned to Farce, the Court, the Church, the Laws;  
It met a while, some Fortune and Applause.  
Now sure the Wits, that did assist it then,  
And strive to have it acted over again,  
Will like it on the Stage; 'tis cheapest here.  
Priests are good Actors, but they're cursed dear;  
And will, if they return, have greater Pay;  
With Reason!— Oh! They lost a hopeful Play.  
Truth is, if ever Priests return, they come  
With all the Hunger, Rage, Revenge of Rome:  
And therefore we had best no longer jar;  
We shall agree too late, when in the Snare.  
Nay, those who once served Priests, and still promote  
France, Teague, and jesuit, in their secret Vote:  
And are so mad, they'd give up Englands Glory,  
Only to keep, the wretched Name of Tory;  
Had better quit their Plots, and cheaply sit,  
To see us act the Product o' their Wit.    

The EPILOGUE.  

PRiests have the Keys of Heaven and Hell they boast;  
No doubt to both, they let in many a Ghost:  
But we, to Day, have Ranting Sparks displayed,  
Can Damn themselves, without the Churches Aid;  
Who count it Glorious to Drink, Whore and Swear,  
And rather would be catched at Rapes, than Prayer.  
But Hect'ring Heaven, they will not trust it far;  
Therefore our Play-House is their Seat of War.  
And they encounter without Wit, or Fear,  
dangerous French Forces in Lewd Vizards here.  
Our Hero's once in France great famed did gain;  
Our Masques give France Revenge, and spoil the strain.  
The Masques, no doubt, are Pensioners of France;  
'Tis Treason now, French Interest to advance;  
And French Commodities are all by Law  
doomed to be burnt: Then you, Bold Masques, withdraw,  
Or else the Custom-House will seize you all,  
And make our House to the Prize-Office fall.  
To revive English Virtue, drive away  
Folly and 'vice, is aimed at by this Play.  
To Friends of England this must well appear;  
And such, no doubt, is every Creature here.     

ADVERTISEMENT.  
A True and Impartial Account of the most Material Passages in Ireland since Decemb. 1688. With a particular Relation of the late Forces of London-Derry. Taken from the Notes of a Gentleman who was Eye-Witness to most of the Actions mentioned therein during his risiding there; and now, being in England, published the same for the further Satisfaction of this Nation. To which is added, A Description, and an Exact Map of London-Derry, as he took it upon the place. Price 6 d. licenced and Entred according to Order. Printed for John Amery at the Peacock against St. Dunstan's Church in Fleetstreet. Sold by Randal tailor at Stationers-Hall.   

London, Printed for John Am ry; and published by Randal tailor. 1690.