Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, MR. SHERIDAN'S PROLOGUE TO GREEK PLAY PHAEDRA & HIPPOLYTUS, by THOMAS SHERIDAN (1687-1738)


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

MR. SHERIDAN'S PROLOGUE TO GREEK PLAY PHAEDRA & HIPPOLYTUS, by                     Poet's Biography
First Line: Under the notion of a play, you see
Last Line: Grant us, ye fates, to play at hide and seek.
Subject(s): Plays & Playwrights


Under the notion of a play, you see,
We're fairly coaxed to act a Tragedy.
Lord! How can any man of reason say
That so much labor should be called a play?
Should any one be so absurd a fool,
I'd be the first would kick him out of school;
For I am sure it cost us aching hearts
And aching heads before we got our parts.
Not all the learning of the year behind
Laid half so great a stress upon our mind;
As for my part, I wish our school was burned,
And all our books were into ashes turned.
Greek after Greek, book after book, no doubt
Will wear our strongest constitutions out.
My mother told me in these words last night,
"Dear Tommy, child, books will destroy you quite;
That you should read at all, I'm very loath;
My life, my dear, I fear they'll spoil your growth."
And she says right; they cost me so much pains,
I wish ten thousand times I had no brains,
Nor had a breech to whip; why then I'd play,
But not in Greek -- I'd find a better way.
Now, Gentlemen, 'tis worth your while to look:
You see this gig I have -- you see this book;
The gig can spin and frisk and hop and tolt,
The book's a lazy, sluggish, heavy dolt.
See how much life is in this bouncing ball;
Now smoke the book, it cannot bounce at all.
This top I carry to play Mug and Gloss;
This bone I have it to play Pitch and Toss.
But this is neither fit for Gloss or Mug;
A lifeless drone, it is a perfect slug.
I swear the very sight on't makes me sick;
I'm sure it is a cursed bone to pick.
Next figure I present you is my kite;
Had any poet e'er so fine a flight?
See how it skims and soars along the sky;
Come, friend Euripides, let's see you fly.
Down, down he comes -- in vain aloft he springs,
A perfect lifeless bat with leathern wings.
Behold my bag of marbles -- here's a treasure!
A world of joy! A world of real pleasure!
What is this poet good for? Come, let's see --
O yes! 'Tis good -- to put beneath my knee.

While thus I play regardless of all care,
And wisely act within my proper sphere;
O! Could I thus in happiness and ease
Pass the remainder of my well-spent days,
Secure from birch, regardless of its pain,
I'd never, never see a book again;
Rather than ever play a play in Greek,
Grant us, ye Fates, to play at Hide and Seek.





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