ortal place.

2 In heaven itself thou sure wert dress'd
With that angel-like disguise:
Thus deluded am I bless'd,
And see my joy with closed eyes.

3 But, ah! this image is too kind
To be other than a dream;
Cruel Saccharissa's mind
Never put on that sweet extreme!

4 Fair dream! if thou intend'st me grace,
Change that heavenly face of thine;
Paint despised love in thy face,
And make it to appear like mine.

5 Pale, wan, and meagre let it look,
With a pity-moving shape,
Such as wander by the brook
Of Lethe, or from graves escape.

6 Then to that matchless nymph appear,
In whose shape thou shinest so;
Softly in her sleeping ear,
With humble words, express my woe.

7 Perhaps from greatness, state, and pride,
Thus surprised she may fall;
Sleep does disproportion hide,
And, death resembling, equals all.

PROLOGUES AND EPILOGUES.

PROLOGUE FOR THE LADY-ACTORS.
SPOKEN BEFORE KING CHARLES II.

Amaze us not with that majestic frown,
But lay aside the greatness of your crown!
And for that look which does your people awe,
When in your throne and robes you give them law,
Lay it by here, and give a gentler smile,
Such as we see great Jove's in picture, while
He listens to Apollo's charming lyre,
Or judges of the songs he does inspire.
Comedians on the stage show all their skill,
And after do as Love and Fortune will. 10
We are less careful, hid in this disguise;
In our own clothes more serious and more wise.
Modest at home, upon the stage more bold,
We seem warm lovers, though our breasts be cold;
A fault committed here deserves no scorn,
If we act well the parts to which we're born.

PROLOGUE TO THE 'MAID'S TRAGEDY.'[1]

Scarce should we have the boldness to pretend
So long-renown'd a tragedy to mend,
Had not already some deserved your praise
With like attempt. Of all our elder plays
This and _Philaster_ have the loudest fame;
Great are their faults, and glorious is their flame.
In both our English genius is express'd; 7
Lofty and bold, but negligently dress'd.

Above our neighbours our conceptions are;
But faultless writing is th'effect of care.
Our lines reform'd, and not composed in haste,
Polished like marble, would like marble last.[2]
But as the present, so the last age writ;
In both we find like negligence and wit.
Were we but less indulgent to our