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THE PROLOGUE
Spoken by Mr. Smith
Good heaven be thanked, the frenzy of the nation
Begins to cure, and wit to grow in fashion.
Long the two theaters did proudly jar,
And for chief sway, like two republics, war;
When of the sudden a devouring host
Of dreadful knights (I say not of the post),
But strange-tongue warriors, overran the town,
And blew the stage, almost the kingdom, down.
And with the stage the poets must expire,
For bells will melt if steeples be on fire.
Then coffeehouses theaters were grown, )
Where zealots acted in a furious tone, )
Oliver's porter damning Babylon. )
But they more mad; for he in his worst fit,
Was ne'er so mad as to talk treason yet.
'Tis strange those men should wish the pope such evil,
Who are so kind to the pope's friend, the devil.
They drink, they whore, and at their rulers rant,
And all is well in a true Prote . . .
