Yet every man is safe from what he feared; For no one fool is hunted from the herd. EPILOGUE TO MITHRIDATES, KING OF PONTUS. BY MR N. LEE, 1678. _This, as appears from the Prologue preserved in the Luttrell collection, was the first play acted in the season_, 1698-9. _It has, like all Lee's productions, no small share of bombast, with some strikingly beautiful passages._ You've seen a pair of faithful lovers die; } And much you care; for most of you will cry, } 'Twas a just judgment on their constancy. } For, heaven be thanked, we live in such an age, When no man dies for love, but on the stage: And e'en those martyrs are but rare in plays; A cursed sign how much true faith decays. Love is no more a violent desire; 'Tis a mere metaphor, a painted fire. In all our sex, the name examined well, 'Tis pride to gain, and vanity to tell. In woman, 'tis of subtle interest made; Curse on the punk, that made it first a trade! She first did wit's prerogative remove, And made a fool presume to prate of love. Let honour and preferment go for gold, But glorious beauty is not to be sold; Or, if it be, 'tis at a rate so high, That nothing but adoring it should buy. Yet the rich cullies may their boasting spare; They purchase but sophisticated ware. 'Tis prodigality that buys deceit, Where both the giver and the taker cheat. Men but refine on the old half-crown way; And women fight, like Swissers, for their pay. PROLOGUE TO THE TRUE WIDOW, 1679. At this period Shadwell and our author were on such good terms, that Dryden obliged him with the following Prologue to the "True Widow;" a play intended to display the humours of various men of the town. Thus we have in the Dramatis Personæ,-- "_Selfish._ A coxcomb, conceited of his beauty, wit, and breeding, thinking all women in love with him, always admiring and talking to himself. _Old Maggot._ An old, credulous fellow; a great enemy to wit, and a lover of business for business-sake. _Young Maggot._ His nephew: an inns-of-court man, who neglects law, and runs mad after wit, pretending much to love, and both in spite of nature, since his face makes him unfit for one, and his brains for the other. _Prig._ A coxcomb, who never thinks or talks of any thing but dogs, horses, hunting, hawking, bowls, tennis, and gaming; a rook, a most noisy jockey. _Lump._ A methodical coxcomb, as regular as a clock, and goes as true as a pendulum; one that knows what he shall do every day of his life by his almanack, where he sets down all his actions before-hand; a mortal enemy to wit." * * * * *