Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, EPILOGUE TO KING AND QUEEN, AT THE OPENING OF THEIR THEATRE, by JOHN DRYDEN



Poetry Explorer

Classic and Contemporary Poetry

Rhyming Dictionary Search
EPILOGUE TO KING AND QUEEN, AT THE OPENING OF THEIR THEATRE, by             Poet's Biography
First Line: New ministers, when first they get in place
Last Line: But first vote money, then redress at leasure.
Subject(s): Law & Lawyers; Plays & Playwrights ; Theater & Theaters; Attorneys; Dramatists; Stage Life


New Ministers, when first they get in place,
Must have a care to please; and that's our Case:
Some Laws for public Welfare we design,
If you, the Power supream, will please to join.
There are a sort of Pratlers in the Pit,
Who either have, or who pretend to Wit;
These noisy Sirs so loud their Parts rehearse,
That oft the Play is silenc'd by the Farce:
Let such be dumb, this penalty to shun,
Each to be thought my Lady's eldest Son.
But stay; methinks some Vizard Mask I see
Cast out her Lure from the mid Gallery:
About her all the fluttering Sparks are rang'd;
The Noise continues, though the Scene is chang'd:
Now growling, sputt'ring, wauling, such a clutter,
'Tis just like Puss defendant in a Gutter;
Fine Love, no doubt; but ere two days are o'er ye,
The Surgeon will be told a woful story.
Let Vizard Mask her naked Face expose,
On pain of being thought to want a Nose:
Then for your laqueys, and your Train beside,
(By whate'er Name or Title dignify'd,)
They roar so loud, you'd think behind the Stairs
Tom Dove, and all the Brotherhood of Bears:
They're grown a Nuisance, beyond all Disasters;
We've none so great but their unpaying Masters.
We beg you, Sirs, to beg your Men that they
Would please to give you leave to hear the Play.
Next, in the Play-house, spare your precious Lives;
Think, like good Christians, on your bearns and wives;
Think on your Souls; but by your lugging forth,
It seems you know how little they are worth.
If none of these will move the warlike Mind,
Think on the helpless Whore you leave behind.
We beg you, last, our Scene-room to forbear
And leave our Goods and Chattels to our Care.
Alas, our Women are but washy Toys,
And wholly taken up in Stage Employs:
Poor willing Tits they are: but yet I doubt
This double Duty soon will wear them out.
Then you are watch'd besides with jealous Care:
What if my Lady's Page should find you there?
My Lady knows t' a tittle what there's in ye;
No passing your gilt Shilling for a Guinea.
Thus, Gentlemen, we have summ'd up in short
Our Grievances, from Country, Town, and Court:
Which humbly we submit to your good pleasure;
But first Vote Money, then redress at leasure.





Other Poems of Interest...



Home: PoetryExplorer.net