_Phillis_. Shall I marry the man I love? And shall I conclude my pains? Now bless'd be the powers above, I feel the blood bound in my veins; With a lively leap it began to move, And the vapours leave my brains. _Amyntas_. Body join'd to body, and heart join'd to heart, To make sure of the cure, Go call the man in black, to mumble o'er his part. _Phillis_. But suppose he should stay-- _Amyntas_. At worst if he delay, 'Tis a work must be done, We'll borrow but a day, And the better, the sooner begun. _Cho. of both_. At worst if he delay, &c. [_They run out together hand in hand._] * * * * * PROLOGUES AND EPILOGUES. I. PROLOGUE TO THE RIVAL LADIES. 'Tis much desired, you judges of the town Would pass a vote to put all prologues down: For who can show me, since they first were writ, They e'er converted one hard-hearted wit? Yet the world's mended well; in former days Good prologues were as scarce as now good plays. For the reforming poets of our age, In this first charge, spend their poetic rage: Expect no more when once the prologue's done: The wit is ended ere the play's begun. 10 You now have habits, dances, scenes, and rhymes; High language often; ay, and sense, sometimes. As for a clear contrivance, doubt it now; They blow out candles to give light to the plot. And for surprise, two bloody-minded men Fight till they die, then rise and dance again, Such deep intrigues you're welcome to this day: But blame yourselves, not him who writ the play; Though his plot's dull, as can be well desired, Wit stiff as any you have e'er admired: 20 He's bound to please, not to write well; and knows There is a mode in plays as well as clothes; Therefore, kind judges.... A SECOND PROLOGUE ENTERS. 2. Hold; would you admit For judges all you see within the pit? 1. Whom would he then except, or on what score? 2. All who (like him) have writ ill plays before; For they, like thieves condemn'd, are hangmen made, To execute the members of their trade. All that are writing now he would disown, But then he must except--even all the town; All choleric, losing gamesters, who, in spite, Will damn to-day, because they lost last night; All servants, whom their mistress' scorn upbraids; All maudlin lovers, and all slighted maids; All who are out of humour, all severe; All that want wit, or hope to find it here. * * * * * II. PROLOGUE TO THE INDIAN QUEEN. As the music plays a soft air, the curtain rises slowly and discovers an Indian boy and girl sleeping under two plantain-trees; and, when the curtain is almost up, the music turns into a tune expressing an alarm, at which the boy awakes, and speaks: