AN epilogue's a tax on authors laid,
And full as much unwillingly is paid.
Good lines, I grant, are little worth; but
yet
Coin has been always easier raised than wit.
(I fear we'd made but very poor campaigns,
Had funds been levied from the grumbling brains.)
Beside, to what poor purpose should we plead,
When you have once resolved a play shall bleed?
But then again, a wretch, in any case,
Has leave to say why sentence should not pass.
First, let your censure from pure judgment flow,
And mix with that some grains of mercy too;
On some your praise like wanton lovers you be-

stow.

Thus have you known a woman plainly fair,
At first scarce worth your two days pains or care;
Without a charm, but being young and new,

(You thought five guineas far beyond her due.) But when pursued by some gay, leading lover, Then every day her eyes new charms discover; Till at the last, by crowds of beaus admired, She has raised her price to what her heart desired,

New gowns and petticoats, which her airs required.

So, miss, and poet too, when once cried up,
Believe their reputation at the top:
And know, that while the liking fit has seiz'd you,
She cannot look, he write, too ill to please you.
How can you bear a sense of love so gross,
To let mere fashion on your taste impose?
Your taste refined, might add to your delight:
Poets from you are taught to raise their flight;
For as you learn to judge, they learn to write.

BY

CRITICS! though plays without your smiles subsist,

Yet this was writ to reach your generous taste,
And not in stern contempt of any other guest.
Our humble author thinks a play should be,
Though tied to rules, like a good sermon, free
From pride, and stoop to each capacity.
Though he dares not, like some, depend alone
Upon a single character new shewn;

Or only things well said, to draw the town.
Such plays, like looser beauties, may have power
To please, and sport away a wanton hour ;
But wit and humour, with a just design,
Charm, as when beauty, sense, and virtue join.
Such was his just attempt, though, 'tis confest,
He's only vain enough t' have done his best ;
For rules are but the posts that mark the course,
Which way the rider should direct his horse;
He that mistakes his ground is easily beat,
Though he that runs it true mayn't do the feat;
For 'tis the straining genius that must win the
heat.

O'er chokejade to the ditch a jade may lead,
But the true proof of Pegasus's breed,

Is when the last act turns the lands with Dimple's

speed.

View then, in short, the method that he takes : His plot and persons he from nature makes, Who for no bribe of jest he willingly forsakes:

His wit, if any, mingles with his plot,
Which should on no temptation be forgot:
His action's in the time of acting done,
No more than from the curtain, up and down
While the first music plays, he moves his scene
A little space, but never shifts again.

From his design no person can be spared,
Or speeches lopt, unless the whole be marred.
No scenes of talk for talking's sake are shew,
Where most abruptly, when their chat is done,
Actors go off, because the poet cann't go a
His first act offers something to be done,
And all the rest but lead that action on;
Which, when pursuing, scenes i' th' end discover,
The game's run down, of course the play is over.
Thus much he thought 'twas requisite to say,
(For all here are not critics born) that they
Who only used to like, might learn to taste a
play.

But now he flies for refuge to the fair, Whom he must own the ablest judges here. Since all the springs of his design but move From beauty's cruelty subdued by love, E'en they, whose hearts are yet untouched, must know,

In the same case, sure, what their own wou'd do: You best should judge of love, since love is born of you.

E

SCENE I.-An Inn in Madrid.

Enter TRAPPANTI, alone, talking to himself.

Indeed, my friend Trappanti, thou'rt in a very thin condition; thou hast neither master, meat, nor money: not but, couldst thou part with that unappeaseable itch of eating, too, thou hast all the ragged virtues that were requisite to set up an ancient philosopher: contempt and poverty, kicks, thumps, and thinking, thou hast endured with the best of them; but-when fortune turns thee up to hard fasting, that is to say, positively not eatying at all, I perceive thou art a downright dunce, with the same stomach, and no more philosophy, than a hound upon horse-flesh-Fasting's the devil!-Let me see-this, I take it, is the most frequented inn about Madrid, and if a keen guest or two should drop in now-Hark!

Host. [Within.] Take care of the gentlemen's horses there; see them well rubbed and littered. | Trap. Just alighted! if they do but stay to eat now! Impudence assist me. Ha! a couple of pretty young sparks, faith!

Enter HYPOLITA and FLORA in men's habits;
a Servant with a portmanteau.
Trap. Welcome to Madrid, sir; welcome, sir!
Flo. Sir, your servant!

Serv. Have the horses pleased your honour? Hup. Very well indeed, friend. Pr'ythee, set down the portmanteau, and see that the poor creatures want nothing: they have performed well, and deserve our care.

Trap. I'll take care of that, sir. Here, ostler! [Exeunt TRAP. and Servant. Flo. And pray, madam, what do I deserve, that have lost the use of my limbs to keep pace with you? 'Sheart! you whipped and spurred like a foxhunter: it's a sign you had a lover in view: I'm sure my shoulders ache as if I had carried my horse on them.

Hyp. Poor Flora! thou art fatigued indeed! but I shall find a way to thank thee for't.

Flo. Thank me, quotha! Egad, I sha'n't be able to sit this fortnight. Well, I'm glad our journey's at an end, however; and now, madain, pray, what do you propose will be the end of our Journey?

Hyp. Why, now, I hope the end of my wishes -Don Philip, I need not tell you how far he is in my heart.

Fio. No, your sweet usage of him told me that long enough ago; but now, it seems, you think fit to confess it: and what is it you love him for, pray?

Hyp. His manner of bearing that usage.

Fo. Ah, dear pride! how we love to have it tickled! But he does not bear it, you see, for

Hyp. To my whole sex, rather than own I loved him.

Flo. Ah, done like a woman of courage!

Hyp. I could not bear the thought of parting with my power; besides, he took me at such an advantage, and pressed me so home to a surrender, I could have torn him piece-meal.

Flo. Ay, I warrant you, an insolent-agreeable puppy. Well, but to leave impertinence, madam, pray how came you to squabble with him?

Hyp. I'll tell thee, Flora:-You know Don Philip wants no charms that can recommend a lover; in birth and quality, I confess him my superior; and it is the thought of that has been a constant thorn upon my wishes. I never saw him in the humblest posture, but still I fancied he secretly presumed his rank and fortune might deserve me. This always stung my pride, and made me overact it: nay, sometimes, when his sufferings have almost drawn tears into my eyes, I have turned the subject with some trivial talk, or hummed a spiteful tune, though I believe his heart was breaking.

Flo. A very tender principle, truly!

Hyp. Well, I don't know, it was in my nature. But to proceed-This, and worse usage, continued a long time; at last, despairing of my heart, he then resolved to do a violence on his own, by consenting to his father's commands of marrying a lady of considerable fortune here in Madrid.The match is concluded, articles are sealed, and the day is fixed for his journey. Now, the night before he set out, he came to take his leave of me, in hopes, I suppose, I would have staid him. I need not tell you my confusion at the news; and though I could have given my soul to have deferred it, yet, finding him, unless I bade him stay, resolved upon the marriage, I (from the pure spirit of contradiction) swore to myself I would not bid him do it; so called for my veil, and told him I was in haste, begged his pardon, your servant, and so whipped to prayers.

Flo. Well said again! that was a clincher.Ah, had not you better been at confession?

Hyp. Why, really, I might have saved a long journey by it. To be short, when I came from church, Don Philip had left this letter at home for me, without requiring an answer—-—Read it

Fio. [Reads.]" Your usage has made me justly despair of you, and now, any change must better

my condition: at least it has reduced me to the necessity of trying the last remedy,-marriage with another; if it prove ineffectual, I only wish you may, at some hours, remember how little cause I have given you to have made me for ever miserable. PHILIP."

Poor gentleman! very hard, by my conscience! Indeed, madam, this was carrying the jest a li.tle too far.

Hyp. Ah, by many a long mile, Flora; but what would you have a woman do, when her hand's in?

Flo. Nay, the truth of it is, we never know the difference between enough and a surfeit ; but, love be praised, your proud stomach's come down for it.

Hyp. Indeed, it is not altogether so high as it was. In a word, his last letter set me at my wit's end; and when I came to myself, you may remember you thought me bewitched; for I immediately called for my boots and breeches, a straddle we got, and so rode after him.

Flo. Why, truly, madam, as to your wits, I have not much altered my opinion of them, for I cannot see what you propose by it.

Flo. I'm afraid it must be alone, if you do give him satisfaction; for my part, I can push no more than I can swim.

Hyp. But can you bully upon occasion? Fla. I can scold, when my blood's up Hyp. That's the same thing: bullying would be scolding in petticoats.

Flo. Say ye so? Why, then, Don, look to yourself; if I don't give you as good as you bring, I'll be content to wear breeches as long as I live, though I lose the end of my sex by it. Weil, madam, now you have opened the plot, pray, when is the play to begin?"

Hyp. I hope to have it all over in less tha four hours: we'll just refresh ourselves w what the house affords, comb out our wigs, and wait upon my father-in-law-How now! what would this fellow have?——

Enter TRAPPANTI.

Trap. Servant, gentlemen; I have taken nice care of your nags; good cattle they are, by my troth! right and sound, I warrant them; they deserve care, and they have had it, and shall have it, if they stay in this house. I always stand by,

Flo. How twice?

Hyp. By the help of the portmanteau, I intend to marry myself to Don Philip's new mistress; and then I'll put off my breeches and marry him.

Flo. Now, I begin to take ye: but, pray, what's in the portmanteau, and how came you by it?

Hyp. I hired one to steal it from his servant at the last inn we lay at in Toledo. In it are jewels of value, presents to my bride, gold good store, settlements, and credential letters, to certify, that the bearer (which I intend to be my self) is Don Philip, only son and heir of Don Fernando de las Torres, now residing at Seville, whence we came.

Flo. A very smart undertaking, by my troth! And, pray, madam, what part am I to act?

Hyp. My woman still; when I cannot lie for myself, you are to do it for me, in the person of a cousin-german.

Flo. And my name is to be

Hyp. Don Guzman, Diego, Mendoza, or what you please: be your own godfather.

Flo. 'Egad, I begin to like it mightily! this may prove a very pleasant adventure, if we can but come off without fighting, which, by the way, I don't easily perceive we shall; for, to be sure, Don Philip will make the devil to do with us when he finds himself here before he comes hither.

Hyp. Oh, let me alone to give him satisfac

tion.

Catch me trusting an ostler-I'll give you leave to fill for me, and drink for me too.

Flo. I have seen this fellow somewhere. Trap. Hey-day! what, no cloth laid? was ever such attendance! Hey, house! tapster! landlord! hey! [Knocks.] What was it you be spoke, gentlemen?

Hyp. Really, sir, I ask your pardon; I have amost forgot you.

Trap. Pshaw! dear sir, never talk of it; I live here hard by-I have a lodging—I cannot call it a lodging neither-that is, I have a Sometimes I am here, and sometimes I am there; and so, here and there, one makes shift, you know. Hey! will these people never come!

(Knocks.

Hyp. You give a very good account of your self, sir.

Trap. Oh, nothing at all, sir. Lord, sir-was it fish or flesh, sir?

Flo. Really, sir, we have bespoke nothing yet. Trap. Nothing! for shame! it's a sign you are young travellers. You don't know this house, sir; why, they'll let you starve if you don't stir and call, and that like thunder, too-Hey!

(Knocks

Hyp. Ha! you eat here sometimes, I presume, sir?

Trap. Umph! Ay, sir, that's as it happensI seldom eat at home, indeed-things are gene rally, you know, so out of order there, that Did you hear any fresh news upon the road, sir?

Hyp. Only, sir, that the king of France lost a great horse-match upon the Alps t'other day.

Trap. Ha! a very odd place for a horse-race -but the king of France may do any thing-did you come that way, gentlemen? or-Hey! Knocks.

Enter Host.

Host. Did you call, gentlemen? Trup. Yes, and bawl, too, sir. Here, the gentlemen are almost famished, and nobody comes near them. What have you in the house, now, that will be ready presently?

Host. You may have what you please, sir.
Hup. Can you give us a partridge?

Host. Sir, we have no partridges; but we'll get you what you please in a moment. We have a very good neck of mutton, sir; if you please, it shall be clapped down in a moment.

Hyp. Have you no pigeons or chickens? Host. Truly, sir, we have no fowl in the house at present; if you please, you may have any thing else in a moment.

Hyp. Then, pr'ythee, get us some young rabbits.

Host. Upon my word, sir, rabbits are so scarce, they are not to be had for money.

Flo. Have you any fish?

Host. Fish, sir! I drest yesterday the finest dish that ever came upon a table; I am sorry we have none left, sir; but, if you please, you may have any thing else in a moment.

Trap. Pox on thee! hast thou nothing but

any thing else in the house?

Host. Very good mutton, sir.

Hup. Pr'ythee get us a breast then. Host. Breast! don't you love the neck, sir? Hyp. Have ye nothing in the house but the neck?

Host. Really, sir, we don't use to be so unprovided; but at present we have nothing else left. Trap. Faith, sir, I don't know but a nothing else may be very good meat, when any thing else

is not to be had.

Hyp. Then, pr'ythee, friend, let's have thy neck of niutton before that is gone, too.

Trap. Sir, he shall lay it down this minute; I'll see it done, gentlemen; I'll wait upon ye presently; for a minute I must beg you pardon, and leave to lay the cloth myself.

Hyp. By no means, sir. Trap. No ceremony, dear sir! Indeed I'll do it. [Exeunt Host and TRAPPANTI. Hyp. What can this familiar puppy be? Flo. With much ado, I have recollected his face. Don't you remember, madam, about two or three years ago, Don Philip had a trusty servant, called Trappanti, that used now and then to slip a note into your hand as you came from church?

Hyp. Is this he, that Philip turned away for saying I was as proud as a beauty, and homely enough to be good-humoured?

Flo. The very same, I assure ye; only, as you see, starving has altered his air a little.

Hyp. Poor fellow! I am concerned for him. What makes him so far from Seville?

Flo. I am afraid all places are alike to him. Hyp. I have a great mind to take him into my service; his assurance may be useful, as my case stands.

VOL. III.

Flo. You would not tell him who you are? Hyp. There's no occasion for it—I'll talk with him.

Enter TRAPPANTI.

Trap. Your dinner's upon the spit, gentlemen, and the cloth is laid in the best room-Are you not for a whet, sir? What wine? what wine? hey!

Flo. We give you trouble, sir.

Trap. Not in the least, sir-Hey! [Knocks.
Enter Host.

Host. D'ye call, gentlemen?
Hyp. Ay; what wine have ye?
Host. What sort you please, sir.
Flo. Sir, will you please to name it?

Trap. Nay, pray, sir!

[To TRAP.

Hyp. No ceremony, dear sir! upon my word you shall.

Trap. Upon my soul you'll make me leave ye, gentlemen.

Hyp. Come, come, no words: pr'ythee, you shall.

Trap. Psha! but why this among friends, now? Here have ye any right Galicia?"

Host. The best in Spain, I warrant it. Trap. Let's taste it; if it be good, set us out half a dozen bottles for dinner.

Host. Yes, sir.

[Exit Host. Fio. Who says this fellow's a-starving now? than a lover at midnight. On my conscience, the rogue has more impudence

him Pray, sir, (for I find we are like to be Hyp. Hang him, 'tis inoffensive; I'll humour better acquainted, therefore, I hope you won't take my question ill)

Trap. Oh, dear sir!

Hyp. What profession may you be of? Trap. Profession, sir-I-I-'Ods me! here's wine.

Enter Host.

Come, fill out-hold-let me taste it first-Ye blockhead, would you have the gentleman drink before he knows whether it be good or not? [Drinks.] Yes, 'twill do-Give me the bottle, I'll fill myself. Now, sir, is not that a glass of right wine?

Hyp. Extremely good, indeed-But, sir, as to my question.

Trap. I'm afraid, sir, that mutton won't be enough for us all.

Hyp. Oh, pray, sir, bespeak what you please. Trap. Sir, your most humble servant-Here, master! pr'ythee, get us a-ha! ay, get us a dozen of poached eggs-a dozen, d'ye hear—just to-pop down a little.

Host. Yes, sir.

[Going.

Trap. Friend- let there be a little slice of bacon to every one of them.

Hyp. But, sir

Trap. 'Odso! I had like to have forgot

2 Q