PROLOGUE, Written by BE VILL HIGGONS, Efq; The ghosts of SHAKESPEARE and DRYDEN arife, Dryd. T HIS radiant circle, reverend Shakespeare, view; Shakesp. A scene fo noble, ancient Greece ne'er saw, By beauty warm'd, tranfcendently fo bright, Well, Dryden, might'st thou fing; well may these heroes fight. Dryd. With all the outward luftre which you find, They want the nobler beauties of the mind. Their fickly judgments, what is just, refuse, And French grimace, buffoons, and mimicks choose; They know not nature, for they tafte not thee. Shakesp. Whofe ftupid fouls thy passion cannot move, When thy Egyptian weeps, what eyes are dry! Dryd. Thro' perspectives revers'd, they nature view, Shakefp. These crimes unknown, in our lefs polifh'd age, Now feem above correction of the stage; Lefs heinous faults, our juftice does purfue; To day we punish a stock-jobbing Jew. A piece of justice, terrible and strange; Dryd. I long endeavour'd to fupport thy stage, Indulge the pledges I have left behind. } } *The profits of this Play were defign'd for Mr. Dryden: but, upon his death, given to his fon. THE JEW of VENICE. A COMEDY. ACT I. SCENE I. Enter BASSANIO, ANTONIO, GRATIANO, and LORENZO. Anto. HOLD the world, but as a ftage, Gratiano, 66 Where every man must play fome certain part, And mine's a serious one. Grat. Laughter and mirth be mine: Why should a man, whose blood is warm and young, Sit like his grandfire, cut in alabaster! Sleep when he wakes, and creep into the jaundice, By being peevish! I tell thee what, Antonio! I love thee, and it is my love that speaks: Screwing their faces in a politic form, Take a fhort turn: once more, my friends, be merry. All have their follies; merry fools are best. |