SONGS FROM PLAYS BY G.ETHERIDGE AND J.VANBRUGH
PROLOGUE (by Sir Carr Scroope, Baronet) Like dancers on the ropes poor poets fare, Most perish young, the rest in danger are; This, one would think, should make our authors wary, But, gamester like, the giddy fools miscarry. A lucky hand or two so tempts 'em on, They cannot leave off play till they're undone. With modest fears a muse does first begin, Like a young wench newly enticed to sin; But tickled once with praise, by her good will, The wanton fool would never more lie still. 'Tis an old mistress you'll meet here to-night, Whose charms you once have look'd on with delight; But now of late such dirty drabs have known ye, A muse o'th' better sort's ashamed to own ye. Nature well drawn, and wit, must now give place To gaudy nonsense and to dull grimace: Nor is it strange that you should like so much That kind of wit, for most of yours is such. But I'm afraid that while to France we go, To bring you home fine dresses, dance, and show, The stage, like you, will but more foppish grow. Of foreign wares why should we fetch the scum When we can be so richly served at home? For, heaven be thank'd, 'tis not so wise an age But your own follies may supply the stage. Though often plough'd, there's no great fear the soil Should barren grow by the too frequent toil, While at your doors are to be daily found Such loads of dunghill to manure the ground. 'Tis by your follies that we players thrive, As the physicians by diseases live; And as each year some new distemper reigns, Whose friendly poison helps t'increase their gains, So among you there starts up every day Some new unheard-of fool for us to play. Then for your own sakes be not too severe, Nor what you all admire at home, damn here: Since each is fond of his own ugly face, Why should you, when we hold it, break the glass?
FROM SCENE III When first Amintas charm'd my heart, My heedless sheep began to stray; The wolves soon stole the greatest part, And all will now be made a prey. Ah! let not love your thoughts possess, 'Tis fatal to a shepherdess; The dangerous passion you must shun, Or else, like me, be quite undone.
FROM SCENE IV The pleasures of love and the joys of good wine To perfect our happiness wisely we join. We to beauty all day Give the sovereign sway, And her favourite nymphs devoutly obey. At the plays we are constantly making our court, And when they are ended we follow the sport, To the Mall and the Park, Where we love till 'tis dark; Then sparkling champagne Puts an end to their reign; It quickly recovers Poor languishing lovers, Makes us frolic and gay, and drowns all our sorrow; But, alas! we relapse again on the morrow. Let ev'ry man stand With his glass in his hand, And briskly discharge at the word of command. Here's a health to all those Whom to-night we depose: Wine and beauty by turns great souls should inspire. Present altogether, and now, boys, give fire!
How charming Phyllis is! how fair! Ah, that she were as willing To ease my wounded heart of care, And make her eyes less killing! I sigh! I sigh! I languish now, And love will not let me rest; I drive about the Park, and bow Still as I meet my dearest.
FROM SCENE V As Amoret with Phyllis sat One evening on the plain, And saw the charming Strephon wait To tell the nymph his pain, The threatening danger to remove She whisper'd in her ear, Ah, Phyllis! if you would not love, This shepherd do not hear. None ever had so strange an art His passion to convey Into a listening virgin's heart, And steal her soul away. Fly, fly betimes, for fear you give Occasion for your fate. In vain, said she, in vain I strive, Alas! 'tis now too late. (by Sir Carr Scroope, Baronet)
PROLOGUE (by John Dryden) Most modern wits such monstrous fools have shown, They seem'd not of heaven's making, but their own. Those nauseous harlequins in farce may pass, But there goes more to a substantial ass; Something of man must be exposed to view, That, gallants, they may more resemble you: Sir Fopling is a fool so nicely writ, The ladies would mistake him for a wit, And when he sings, talks loud, and cocks, would cry, I vow, methinks he's pretty company! So brisk, so gay, so travell'd, so refined, As he took pains to graft upon his kind. True fops help nature's work, and go to school To file and finish God Almighty's fool. Yet none Sir Fopling him, or him, can call; He's knight o' th' shire, and represents ye all. From each he meets he culls whate'er he can, Legion's his name, a people in a man: His bulky folly gathers as it goes, And, rolling o'er you, like a snowball grows. His various modes from various fathers follow; One taught the toss, and one the new French wallow. His sword-knot this, his cravat this design'd, And this the yard-long snake he twirls behind. From one the sacred periwig he gain'd, Which wind ne'er blew, nor touch of hat profaned Another's diving bow he did adore, Which with a shog casts all the hair before; Till he, with full decorum, brings it back, And rises with a water-spaniel shake. As for his songs (the ladies' dear delight) Those sure he took from most of you who write. Yet every man is safe from what he fear'd, For no one fool is hunted from the herd. Yet no one coxcomb in this play is shown, No one man's humour makes a part alone, But scatter'd follies gather'd into one.
PROLOGUE Since 'tis the Intent and Business of the Stage, To copy out the Follies of the Age. To hold to every Man a faithful Glass, And shew him of what Species he's an Ass: I hope the next that teaches in the School, Will show Author he's a scribling Fool. And that the Satire may be sure to bite, Kind Heaven ! Inspire some venom'd Priest to write, And grant some ugly Lady may indite, For I wou'd have him lash'd, by Heavens! I wou'd, Till his Presumption swam away in Blood. Three Plays at once proclaim a Face of Brass, No matter what they are; That's not the Case, To write three Plays, e'en that's to be an Ass. But what 1 least forgive, he knows it too, For to his Cost he lately has known you. Experience shows, to many a Writer's Smart, You hold a Court where Mercy ne'er had part , So much of the old Serpent's Sting you have, You love to Damn, as Heav'n delights to Save. In foreign Parts, let a bold Volunteer, For publick Good, upon the Stage appear, He meets ten thousand Smiles, to dissipate his Fear, . A11 tickle on the adventuring young Beginner, And only scourge th' incorrigible Sinner, They touch indeed his Faults, but with a Hand So gentle, that his Merit still may stand: Kindly they buoy the Follies of his Pen, That he may shun them when he writes again. But 'tis not so in this good-natur'd Town, All's one, an Ox, a Poet, or a Crown; Old England's Play was always knocking down.
FROM SCENE I Fly, fly, you happy Shepherds, fly; Avoid Filira's charms; The Rigour of her Heart denies The Heaven that's in her Arms. Ne'er hope to gaze, and then retire, Nor yielding, to be blest: Nature, who form'd her Eyes of Fire, Of Ice compos'd her Breast. Yet, lovely Maid, this once believe A Slave whole Zeal you move; The Gods, alas, your Youth deceive, Their Heav'n consists in Love. In spite of all the Thanks you owe, You may reproach 'em this, That where they did their Formbestow They have deny'd their Bliss.
FROM SCENE II A Song, to be sung between a Man and a Woman M. Ah lovely Nymph, the World's on fire; Veil, veil those cruel Eyes! W. The World may then in Flames expire, And boast that so it dies. M. But when all Mortals are destroy'd, Who then shall sing your Praise? W. Those who are fit to be employ'd: The Gods shall Altars raise.
I. Not an Angel dwells above Half so fair as her I love, Heaven knows how she'll receive me: If she smiles I'm blest indeed; If she frowns, I'm quickly freed; Heaven knows, she ne'er can grieve me. II. None can love her more than I, Yet she ne'er shall make me die. If my Flame can never warm her; Lasting Beauty I'll adore, I shall never love her more, Cruelty will so deform her.
FROM SCENE III I. What a Pother of late Have they kept in the State About setting our Consciences free? A Bottle has more Dispensation in store, Than the King and the State can decree. II. When my Head's full of Wine, I o'erflow with Design, And know no Penal Laws that curb me: Whate'er I devise, Seems good in my Eyes, And Religion ne'er dares to disturb me. III. No saucy Remorse Intrudes in my Course, No impertinent Notions of Evil, So there Claret in flore, In Peace I've my Whore, And in Peace I jog on to the devil.
FROM SCENE V I. When yielding first to Damon's flame, I sunk into his Arms; He swore he'd ever be the same, Then rifted all my Charms. But fond of what h'ad long desir'd, Too greedy of his Prey, My Shepherd's Flame, alas! expir'd Before the Verge of Day. II. My Innocence in Lover Wars, Reproach'd his quick Defeat; Confus'd, asham'd, and bath'd in Tears, I moan'd his cold Retreat. At length, Ah Shepherdess! cry'd he, Wou'd you my Fire renew, Wou'd you must retreat like me, I'm lost if you pursue.
EPILOGUE Spoken by Lady Brute and Belinda. Lady B. No Epilogue! Bel. I swear I know of none. Lady. Lord! How shall we excuse it to the Town? Bel. Why, we must e'en say something of our own. Lady. Our own! Ay, That must needs be precious stuff. Bel. I'll lay my Life, they'll like it well enough, Come, Faith, begin... Lady. Excuse me, after you. Bel. Nay, pardon me for that, I know my Cue. Lady. O for the World, I would not have Precedence. Bel. O Lord! Lady. I swear... Bel, O Fye! Lady. I'm all Obedience. First then, know all, before our Doom is fixt, The Third Day is for us... Bel. Nay and the Sixth. Lady. We speak not from the Poet now, nor is it His Cause... (I want a Rhyme) Bel. That we sollicite. Lady. Then sure you cannot have the hearts to be severe And damn us... Bel. Damn us! Let 'em if they dare. Lady. Why, if they should, what Punishment remains? Bel. Eternal Exile from behind our Scenes. Lady. But if they're kind, that Sentence we'll recall. We can be grateful... Bel. And have wherewithal. Lady. But at Grand Treaties hope not to be trusted, Before Preliminaries are adjusted. Bel. You know the Time, and we appoint this Place, Where, if you please, we'll meet and sign the Peace.
Translation by S.Shorgin
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