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PROLOGUE TO GEORGE FARQUHAR'S COMEDY 'THE TWIN RIVALS', by                     Poet's Biography
First Line: With drums and trumpets, in this warring age
Last Line: Let us hold out the third, and, if we may, the sixth.
Alternate Author Name(s): Motteux, Pierre Antoine


An Alarm sounded.

WITH drums and trumpets, in this warring age,
A martial prologue should alarm the stage.
New plays, ere acted, a full audience near,
Seem towns invested, when siege they fear.
Prologues are like a forlorn hope, sent out
Before the play, to skirmish and to scout:
Our dreadful foes, the critics, when they spy,
They cock, they charge, they fire, then—back they fly.
The siege is laid, there gallant chiefs abound,
Here foes intrench'd, there glittering troops around,
And the loud batteries roar from yonder rising ground.
In the first act brisk sallies (miss or hit),
With volleys of small shot, or snip-snap wit.
Attack, and gall the trenches of the pit.
The next: the fire continues, but at length
Grows less, and slackens like a bridegroom's strength.
The third: feints, mines, and countermines abound,
Your critic engineers safe underground,
Blow up our works, and all our art confound.
The fourth brings on most action, and 'tis sharp,
Fresh foes crowd on, at your remissness carp,
And desperate, though unskill'd, insult our counterscarp.
Then comes the last; the general storm is near,
The poet-governor now quakes for fear;
Runs wildly up and down, forgets to huff,
And would give all h'as plunder'd—to get off.
So, Don and Monsieur, bluff before the siege,
Were quickly tamed at Venloo, and at Liége:
'Twas Viva Spagnia! Vive France! before;
Now, Quartier! Monsieur! Quartier! Ah, Señor!
But what your resolution can withstand?
You master all, and awe the sea and land.
In war your valour makes the strong submit;
Your judgment humbles all attempts in wit.
What play, what fort, what beauty can endure
All fierce assaults, and always be secure!
Then grant 'em generous terms who dare to write,
Since now that seems as desperate as to fight:
If we must yield, yet ere the day be fixt,
Let us hold out the third, and, if we may, the sixth.






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