Prologue To "The Loyal General;" By Mr Tate, 1680.

    If yet there be a few that take delight
    In that which reasonable men should write;
    To them alone we dedicate this night.
    The rest may satisfy their curious itch
    With city-gazettes, or some factious speech,
    Or whate'er libel, for the public good,
    Stirs up the shrove-tide crew to fire and blood.
    Remove your benches, you apostate pit,
    And take, above, twelve pennyworth of wit;
    Go back to your dear dancing on the rope,
    Or see, what's worse, the Devil and the Pope.
    The plays that take on our corrupted stage,
    Methinks, resemble the distracted age;
    Noise, madness, all unreasonable things,
    That strike at sense, as rebels do at kings.
    The style of forty-one our poets write,
    And you are grown to judge like forty-eight,^[1]
    Such censures our mistaking audience make,
    That 'tis almost grown scandalous to take.
    They talk of fevers that infect the brains;
    But nonsense is the new disease that reigns.
    Weak stomachs, with a long disease oppress'd,
    Cannot the cordials of strong wit digest.
    Therefore thin nourishment of farce ye choose,
    Decoctions of a barley-water Muse:
    A meal of tragedy would make ye sick,
    Unless it were a very tender chick.
    Some scenes in sippets would be worth our time;
    Those would go down; some love that's poach'd in rhyme:
    If these should fail--
    We must lie down, and, after all our cost,
    Keep holiday, like watermen in frost;
    While you turn players on the world's great stage,
    And act yourselves the farce of your own age.

John Dryden

John Dryden was an influential English poet, literary critic, translator, and playwright who was made England’s first Poet Laureate in 1668. His work dominated the literary life of Restoration England and he is seen as a major figure in the literary history of the period. Dryden's notable works include the satirical poem 'Absalom and Achitophel' and the mock-heroic 'Mac Flecknoe.'

John Dryden

Prologue To "Oedipus."

John Dryden, Simple Poetry

Veni Creator Spiritus, Paraphrased.

John Dryden, Simple Poetry

On The Death Of Amyntas.

John Dryden, Simple Poetry

Prologue To "Albion And Albanius."

John Dryden, Simple Poetry

English

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Prologue To "Limberham."

    True wit has seen its best days long ago;
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Epilogue To The Wild Gallant, When Revived.

    Of all dramatic writing, comic wit,
    As 'tis the best, so 'tis most hard to hit,
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Prologue To "Aurengzebe."

    Our author, by experience, finds it true,
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Prologue To "The Pilgrim." By Beaumont And Fletcher.

REVIVED FOR OUR AUTHOR'S BENEFIT, ANNO 1700.


    How wretched is the fate of those who write!
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John Dryden

Prologue To The Rival Ladies.

    'Tis much desired, you judges of the town
    Would pass a vote to put all prologues down:
    For who can show me, since they first were writ,
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Prologue To "Albion And Albanius."

    Full twenty years and more, our labouring stage
    Has lost on this incorrigible age:
    Our poets, the John Ketches of the nation,
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    You bore like heroes, or you bribed like Oates.
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    Like beating nut-trees, makes a larger crop?
    Faith, we'll e'en spare our pains! and, to content you,
    Will fairly leave you what your Maker meant you.
    Satire was once your physic, wit your food:
    One nourish'd not, and t'other drew no blood:
    We now prescribe, like doctors in despair,
    The diet your weak appetites can bear.
    Since hearty beef and mutton will not do,
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John Dryden