Classic Poem

The Prologue at Court.

Had not obedience ov'rrul'd the Authors feare
And Judgement too, this humble peece had nere
Approacht so high a Majestie, not writ
By the exact and subtile rules of wit,
Ambitious for the splendor of this night
But fashion'd up in hast for his owne delight.
This, by my Lord, with as much zeale as ere
Warm'd the most loyall heart, is offered here
To make this night your pleasure, although we
Who are the Actors, feare twill rather be
Your patience: and if any mirth; we may
Sadly suspect, twill rise quite the wrong way.
But you have mercy sir, and from your eye
Bright Madam, never yet did lightning flye,
But vitall beames of favour such as give
A growth to all, who can deserve to live.
Why should the Authour tremble then, or we
Distresse our hopes, and such tormentors be,
Of our owne thoughts, since in those happie times
We live, when mercie's greater than the crimes.

The Prologue at Court.

Had not obedience ov'rrul'd the Authors feare
And Judgement too, this humble peece had nere
Approacht so high a Majestie, not writ
By the exact and subtile rules of wit,
Ambitious for the splendor of this night
But fashion'd up in hast for his owne delight.
This, by my Lord, with as much zeale as ere
Warm'd the most loyall heart, is offered here
To make this night your pleasure, although we
Who are the Actors, feare twill rather be
Your patience: and if any mirth; we may
Sadly suspect, twill rise quite the wrong way.
But you have mercy sir, and from your eye
Bright Madam, never yet did lightning flye,
But vitall beames of favour such as give
A growth to all, who can deserve to live.
Why should the Authour tremble then, or we
Distresse our hopes, and such tormentors be,
Of our owne thoughts, since in those happie times
We live, when mercie's greater than the crimes.