PROLOGUE.

SPOKEN BY MRS. BRACEGIRDLE.1

How this vile world is changed! in former days
Prologues were serious speeches before plays;
Grave solemn things, as graces are to feasts,
Where poets begged a blessing from their guests.
But now, no more like suppliants we come ;
A Play makes war, and Prologue is the drum :
Armed with keen satire, and with pointed wit,
We threaten you who do for judges sit,
To save our plays, or else we'll damn your pit.
But for your comfort, it falls out to-day,
We've a young author, and his first-born play;
So, standing only on his good behaviour,
He's very civil, and entreats your favour.
Not but the man has malice, would he show it,
But, on my conscience, he's a bashful poet;
You think that strange-no matter, he'll outgrow it.
Well, I'm his advocate-by me he prays you,
(I don't know whether I shall speak to please you)
He prays-O bless me ! what shall I do now!
Hang me, if I know what he prays, or how!
And 'twas the prettiest Prologue as he wrote it!
Well, the deuce take me, if I ha'n't forgot it!
O Lord, for Heaven's sake excuse the Play,
Because, you know, if it be damned to-day,
I shall be hanged for wanting what to say.
For my sake then-but I'm in such confusion,
I cannot stay to hear your resolution.

[Runs off.

1 The favourite actress of the day (born 1674, died 1748). "Never," says Colley Cibber, "any woman was in such general favour of her spectators, which to the last scene of her dramatic life she maintained by not being unguarded in her private character.” Mrs. Bracegirdle was the favourite actress of Congreve, and it is said that in the several lovers which he gave her in his plays, he expressed his own passion for her.

DRAMATIS PERSONÆ.

HEARTWELL, a surly old Bachelor, pretending to slight Women, secretly in love with SILVIA.

BELLMOUR, in love with BElinda.

VAINLOVE, capricious in his love; in love with ARA

MINTA.

SHARPER.

SIR JOSEPH WITTOL.

CAPTAIN BLUFFE.

FONDLEWIFE, a Banker.

SETTER, a Pimp.

GAVOT, a Music-master.

PACE, Footman to ARAMINTA.

BARNABY, Servant to FONDLewife.

A Boy.

ARAMINTA, in love with VAINLOVE.

BELINDA, her Cousin, an affected Lady, in love with

BELLMOUR.

LETITIA, Wife to FONDLEWife.

SILVIA, VAINLOVE'S forsaken Mistress.

LUCY, her Maid.

BETTY, Maid to ARAMINTA.

Dancers, and Attendants.

SCENE-LONDON.

ELL. Vainlove, and abroad so early! good morrow. I thought a contemplative lover could no more have parted with his bed in a morning, than he could have slept in't.

Vain. Bellmour, good morrow.

Why, truth on't is, these early sallies are not usual to me; but business, as you see, sir-[Showing letters.] And business must be followed, or be lost.

Bell. Business!--and so must time, my friend, be close pursued, or lost. Business is the rub of life, perverts our aim, casts off the bias, and leaves us wide and short of the intended mark.

Vain. Pleasure, I guess, you mean.
Bell. Ay, what else has meaning?
Vain. Oh, the wise will tell you-

Bell. More than they believe-or understand.

Vain. How, how, Ned, a wise man say more than he understands?

Bell. Ay, ay; wisdom's nothing but a pretending to know and believe more than we really do. You read of but one wise man, and all that he knew was, that he knew nothing. Come, come, leave business to idlers, and wisdom to fools: they have need of 'em: wit, be my faculty, and pleasure my occupation; and let father Time shake his glass. Let low and earthly souls grovel 'till they have worked themselves six foot deep into a grave. Business is not my element-I roll in a higher orb, and dwell

Vain. In castles i'th' air of thy own building: that's thy element, Ned. Well, as high a flyer as you are, I have a lure may make you stoop.1

[Flings a letter.

Bell. Ay, marry, sir, I have a hawk's eye at a woman's hand.—There's more elegancy in the false spelling of this superscription--[Takes up the letter]—than in all Cicero. -Let me see-How now! [Reads.] "Dear perfidious Vainlove."

Vain. Hold! hold! 'slife, that's the wrong.

Bell. Nay, let's see the name-Silvia! How canst thou be ungrateful to that creature? She's extremely pretty, and loves thee entirely. I have heard her breathe such raptures about thee.

Vain. Ay, or anybody that she's about.

Bell. No, faith, Frank, you wrong her: she has been just to you.

Vain. That's pleasant, by my troth, from thee, who hast had her.

'Tis true, by heaven; blushing like the virgin cheat, which that trusty hid, confessed her soul

Bell. Never-her affections. she owned it to my face; and morn when it disclosed the bawd of nature, Night, had was true to you; though I by treachery had stolen the bliss.

Vain. So was true as turtle-in imagination, Ned, ha?

1 A term in falconry. The "lure" was an artificial decoy-bird used to call the young hawks home.

Preach this doctrine to husbands, and the married women will adore thee.

Bell. Why, faith, I think it will do well enough, if the husband be out of the way, for the wife to show her fondness and impatience of his absence by choosing a lover as like him as she can; and what is unlike, she may help out with her own fancy.

Vain. But is it not an abuse to the lover to be made a blind of?

Bell. As you say, the abuse is to the lover, not the husband: for 'tis an argument of her great zeal towards him, that she will enjoy him in effigy.

Vain. It must be a very superstitious country, where such zeal passes for true devotion. I doubt it will be damned by all our protestant husbands for flat idolatry. -But if you can make Alderman Fondlewife of your persuasion, this letter will be needless.

Bell. What, the old banker with the handsome wife? Vain. Ay.

Bell. Let me see, Lætitia! oh, 'tis a delicious morsel! -Dear Frank, thou art the truest friend in the world.

Vain. Ay, am I not? to be continually starting of hares for you to course. We were certainly cut out for one another; for my temper quits an amour, just where thine takes it up.-But read that, it is an appointment for me this evening, when Fondlewife will be gone out of town, to meet the master of a ship, about the return of a venture which he's in danger of losing. Read, read.

Bell. Hum, hum. [Reads.] "Out of town this evening, and talks of sending for Mr. Spintext to keep me company; but I'll take care he shall not be at home." Good! Spintext! oh, the fanatic one-eyed parson!

Vain. Ay.

Bell. Hum, hum. [Reads.] "That your conversation will be much more agreeable, if you can counterfeit his habit to blind the servants." Very good! Then I must