PROLOGU E. COULD those, who never try'd, conceive the sweat,

The toil requir'd, to make a play complete,
They'd pardon, or encourage all that could
Pretend to be but tolerably good.
Plot, wit, and humour's hard to meet in one,
And yet without them all-all's lamely done :
One wit, perhaps, another humour paints ;
A third designs you well, but genius wants ;
A fourth begins with fire-but, ah! too weak to hold

it, faints.
A modern bard, who late adorn'd the bays,
Wbife muse advanc'd his fame to cnwy'd praise,
Was still observ'd to want his judgment most in plays,
Those, be too often found, requir'd the pain

And stronger forces of a vig?rous brain :--
Nay, even alter'd plays, like old houses mended,
Coft little less than nerv, before they're eniled ;
At least, our author finds the experience true,
For equal pains had made this wholly new :
And though the name seems old, the scenes will shew
That’tis, in fact, no more the same, than now
Fan'd Chatsworth is, what 'twas some years ago.
Pardon the boldness, that a play should dare,
With works of so much wonder to compare:
But as that fabrick's ancient walls or wood
Were little worth, to make this new one good;
So of this play, we hope, 'tis understood.
For though from former scenes fome hints he draws,
The ground-plot's wholly chang'd from what it was:
Not but he hopes you'll find enough that's new,
In plot, in persons, wit and humour too :
Yet what's not his, he owns in others right,
Nor toils be now for fame, but

your delight.
If that's attain'd, what matter's whose the play's?
Applaud the

scenes, and strip him of the praise.


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A C T I.
SCENE, The Park.
Enter Clerimont and Atall.

R. Atall, your very humble servant.

At. 0, Clerimont, such an adventure! I was just going to your lodgings, such a transporting accident! in short, I am now positively in love for altoge-, ther.

Cler, All the fex together, I believe. At. Nay, if thou not believe ine, and stand my friend, I ain ruin'd past redemption.

Cler. Dear Sir, if I stand your friend without believe ing you, won't that do as well? But why thould you think I don't believe you? I have seen you twice in love. within this fortnight ; and it would be hard indeed to suppose a heart of so much mettle could not hold out a. third engagement.

Ai. Then, to be serious, in one word, I am honourably in love ; and, if the proves the woman I ain sure the mult, will positively marry her.

Cler. Marry! O degenerate virtue!
At. Now will you help me ?

Cler. Sir, you may depend upon me. Pray give me leave first to ask a question or two: What is this honourable lady's name?


At. Faith, I don't know.
Cler. What are her parents ?
At. I can't tell.
Cler. What fortune has she?
At. I don't know.
Cler, Where does the live ?
At. I can't tell.

Cler. A very concise account of the person you design to marry. Pray, Sir, what is't you do know of her?

At. That I'll tell you : Coming yesterday from Greenwich by water, I overtook a pair of oars, whose lovely freight was one fingle lady, and a fellow in a handsome livery in the stern. When I came up, I had at first resolved to use the privilege of the element, and bait her with waterman's wit, till I came to the bridge ; but, as soon as she saw me, the very prudently prevented my design ; and, as I passed, bow'd to me with an humble blush, that spoke at once fach fenfe, fo just a fear, and modesty, as put the loosest of my thoughts to rout. And when the found her fears had moved me into manners, the cautious gloom that sat upon her beauties dif. appeared ; her sparkling eyes resumed their native fire; the looked, she smiled, she talked, while her diffufive charms new fired my heart, and gave my soul a softness it never felt before-To be brief, her converfation was as charming as her person, both easy, unconstrained, and sprightly: but then her limbs! O rapturous thought! The snowy down upon the wings of unfledged love, had never half that softness.

Cler. Raptures indeed. Pray, Sir, how came you so well acquainted with her limbs

At. By the most fortunate misfortune sure that ever was : for, as we were shooting the bridge, her boat, by the negligence of the waterman, running against the piles, was overset; out jumps the foorman to take care of a single rogue, and down went the poor lady to the bottom. My boat being before her, the stream drove her, by the help of her cloaths, toward me; at fight of her I plunged in, caught her in my arms, and, with much ado, supported her till my waterman pulled in to

But the charming difficulty of her getting into the boat, gave me a transport that all the wide water in


fave us.

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