Classic Poem

A Prologue Spoken at the Opening of the Duke's New Playhouse

'Tis not in this as in the former age,
When wit alone sufficed t'adorn the stage,
When things well said an audience could invite,
Without the hope of such a gaudy sight.
What with your fathers took would take with you,
If wit had still the charm of being new;
Had not enjoyment dulled your appetite,
She in her homely dress would yet delight;
Such stately Theaters we need not raise,
Our old House would put off our dullest plays.
You gallants know, a fresh wench of sixteen
May drive the trade in honest bombasine
And never want good custom, should she lie
In a back room, two or three stories high.
But such a beauty as has long been known,
Though not decayed but to perfection grown,
Must, if she mean to thrive in this lewd Town,
Wear points, laced petticoats, and a rich gown;
Her lodgings too must with her dress agree,
Be hung with damask or with tapestry,
Have china, cabinets, and a great glass
To strike respect into an amorous ass.
Without the help of stratagems and arts,
An old acquaintance cannot touch your hearts.
Methinks 'tis hard our authors should submit
So tamely to their predecessors' wit,
Since (I am sure) among you there are few
Would grant your grandfathers had more than you.
But hold! I in this business may proceed too far,
And raise a storm against our Theater;
And then what would the wise adventurers say,
Who are in a much greater fright today
Than ever poet was about his play?
Our apprehensions none can justly blame,
Money is dearer much to us than fame:
This thought on, let our poets justify
The reputation of their poetry.
We are resolved we will not have to do
With what's between those gentlemen and you.
Be kind, and let our House have but your praise,
You're welcome every day to damn their plays.English