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Show The P R O L O G U E that was fpoke the firft Night, receiv'd fuch Additions from Mr. who fpoke it, that they are beft if bury'd and forgoc. But the following P R O L O O U E is literally the fame that was intended for the Play , and written by Mr. Motteux. T Ike hungry Guefts, a fitting Audience looks : "•-"' Plays are like Suppers: ' Poets are the Cooks. The Founder's Tou : The Table is this Place : The Carver's We ^ The Prologue is the Grace. Each AH, a Courfe; Each Scene, a different Difh. Tho we're in Lent, I doubt you're ftill for Flefh. Satyr's the Sauce, high-fe a fond, (harp, and rough f Kind Mafques and Beaux, I hope you re Pepper proof. Wit is the Wine ; but 'tis fo fcarce the true, Poets, like Vintners, balderdafh, and brew. Tourfurly Scenes, where Rant and Bhodfhed join, Are Butcher's Meat, a Battel's a Sirloin. Tour Scenes of Love, fo flowing, foft, and chafte, Are Water-gruel, without S*lt or Tafte. Baudy'sfat Venfon, which, tho' ft ale, canpleafe-: Tour Rakes love Hogoes, like your damnd French Cheefe. Tour Rarity for the fair Guefts to gape on, Is your nice Squeeker, or Italian Capon ; Or your French Virgin-Pullet, garnifh'd round, And drefsd with Sauce of fome Four hundred Pound. An Op'ra, like an Oglio, nicks the Age ; Farce is the Hafty-Pudding of the Stage. For when you're treated with indifferent Cheer, Te can difpenfe with flender Stage-Coach Fare. A Pafloral'fwhipt Cream ; Stage-Whims, meer Trafh ; And Tragi-comedy, half Fijh, half Flefb. -y But Comedy, That, That's the darling Cheer. ( This Night we hope you'll an Inconftant bear : f Wild Fowl is lik'd in Play-houfe all C!K Tear. 3 Tet fince each Mind betrays a dtff'rent Tafte, 7 And ev'ry Difh fcarce pie a fes ev'ry Gueft, £ If ought your elifh, do not damn the reft. J This Favour crav'd, up let the Mufick jh ike : Tou're welcome all. Now fall to where you like. Jy . DramaUs |