Richard Lovelace. The Epilogue.

Richard Lovelace.

	The Epilogue.
	THE stubborne author of the trifle, Crime, That just now cheated you of 2 hours' time, Presumptuous, it lik't him, began to grow Carelesse, whether it pleased you or no. But we who ground th' excellence of a Play On what the women at the dores wil say, Who judge it by the Benches, and afford To take your money ere his Oath or word His Schollars school'd, sayd if he had been wise He should have wove in one, two Comedies ; The first for th' Gallery, in which the Throne To their amazement should descend alone, The rosin-lightning flash, and Monster spire Squibs, and words hotter then his fire. Th' other for the Gentlemen oth' Pit, Like to themselves, all Spirit, Fancy, Wit, In which plots should be subtile as a Flame, Disguises would make Proteus stil the same : Humours so rarely humour'd, and exprest, That ev'n they should thinke 'em so, not drest ; Vices acted and applauded too, Times Tickled, and th' Actors acted, not their Crimes, So he might equally applause have gain'd Of th' hardned, sooty, and the snowy hand. Where now one so so spatters, t'other, no ; Tis his first Pla, twere Solecisme 'tshould goe ; The next, 't shew'd pritily, but searcht within It appeares bare and bald, as is his Chin ; The Towne-wit Sentences ; a Scholar's Play ! Pish! I know not why—but—th'ave not the way. We, whose gaine is all our pleasure, ev'n these Are bound by Justice and Religion to please ; Which he whose Pleasure's all his gaine, goes by As slightly, as they doe his Comædy. Cull's out the few the worthy, at whose feet He sacrifices both himselfe, and it His Fancies first fruits : Profit he knowes none Unles that of your Approbation, Which if your thoughts at going out will pay, Hee'l not looke farther for a Second Day.

Source:
Lovelace, Richard. The Poems of Richard Lovelace.
London: Unit Library, Ltd., 1904. 59-60.

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