Lucasta [45]
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.<48.3>
Where now one SO SO<48.4> spatters, t'other: no! Tis his first play; twere solecisme 'tshould goe; The next 't show'd pritily, but searcht within It appeares bare and bald, as is his chin; The towne-wit sentences: A SCHOLARS PLAY! Pish! I know not why, but th'ave not the way.<48.5>
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 comaedy.
Culls 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.<48.6>
<48.1> Perhaps TRIFLING was the word written by Lovelace. A VENIAL OFFENCE is meant.
<48.2> It would be difficult to point out a writer so unpardonably slovenly in his style or phraseology as Lovelace. By "Presumptuous it lik't him," we must of course understand "Presumptuous that he liked it himself," or presumptuously self-satisfied.
<48.3> i.e. the rough and dirty occupants of the gallery and the fair spectators in the boxes.
<48.4> An exclamation of approval, when an actor made a hit. The phrase seems to be somewhat akin to the Italian "SI, SI," a corruption of "SIA, SIA."
<48.5> i.e. they do not know how to act a play.
<48.6> This prologue and epilogue were clearly not attached to the play when it was first performed by the fellow-collegians of the poet at Gloucester Hall, as an amateur attempt in the dramatic line, but were first added when "The Scholars" was reproduced in London, and the parts sustained by ordinary actors.
AGAINST THE LOVE OF GREAT ONES.
Vnhappy youth, betrayd by Fate To such a love<49.1> hath sainted hate, And damned those celestiall bands<49.2> Are onely knit with equal hands; The love of great ones is a love,<49.3> Gods are incapable to prove: For where there is a joy uneven, There never, never can be Heav'n: 'Tis such a love as is not sent To fiends as yet for punishment; IXION willingly doth feele The gyre of his eternal wheele, Nor would he now exchange his paine For cloudes and goddesses againe.
Wouldst thou with tempests lye? Then bow To th' rougher furrows of her brow, Or make a thunder-bolt thy choyce? Then catch at her more fatal voyce; Or 'gender with the lightning? trye The subtler<49.4> flashes of her eye: Poore SEMELE<49.5> wel knew the same, Who<49.6> both imbrac't her God and flame; And not alone in soule did burne, But in this love did ashes turne.
How il doth majesty injoy The bow and gaity oth' boy, As if the purple-roabe should sit, And sentence give ith' chayr of wit.
Say, ever-dying wretch, to whom Each answer is a certaine doom,<49.7> What is it that you would possesse, The Countes, or the naked Besse?<49.8> Would you her gowne or title do? Her box or gem, the<49.9> thing or show? If you meane HER, the very HER, Abstracted from her caracter, Unhappy boy! you may as soone With fawning wanton with the Moone, Or with an amorous complaint Get prostitute your very saint; Not that we are not mortal, or Fly VENUS altars, and<49.10> abhor The selfesame knack, for which you pine; But we (defend us!) are divine, [Not] female, but madam born,<49.11> and come From a right-honourable wombe. Shal we then mingle with the base, And bring a silver-tinsell race? Whilst th' issue noble wil not passe The gold alloyd<49.12> (almost halfe brasse), And th' blood in each
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.<48.3>
Where now one SO SO<48.4> spatters, t'other: no! Tis his first play; twere solecisme 'tshould goe; The next 't show'd pritily, but searcht within It appeares bare and bald, as is his chin; The towne-wit sentences: A SCHOLARS PLAY! Pish! I know not why, but th'ave not the way.<48.5>
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 comaedy.
Culls 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.<48.6>
<48.1> Perhaps TRIFLING was the word written by Lovelace. A VENIAL OFFENCE is meant.
<48.2> It would be difficult to point out a writer so unpardonably slovenly in his style or phraseology as Lovelace. By "Presumptuous it lik't him," we must of course understand "Presumptuous that he liked it himself," or presumptuously self-satisfied.
<48.3> i.e. the rough and dirty occupants of the gallery and the fair spectators in the boxes.
<48.4> An exclamation of approval, when an actor made a hit. The phrase seems to be somewhat akin to the Italian "SI, SI," a corruption of "SIA, SIA."
<48.5> i.e. they do not know how to act a play.
<48.6> This prologue and epilogue were clearly not attached to the play when it was first performed by the fellow-collegians of the poet at Gloucester Hall, as an amateur attempt in the dramatic line, but were first added when "The Scholars" was reproduced in London, and the parts sustained by ordinary actors.
AGAINST THE LOVE OF GREAT ONES.
Vnhappy youth, betrayd by Fate To such a love<49.1> hath sainted hate, And damned those celestiall bands<49.2> Are onely knit with equal hands; The love of great ones is a love,<49.3> Gods are incapable to prove: For where there is a joy uneven, There never, never can be Heav'n: 'Tis such a love as is not sent To fiends as yet for punishment; IXION willingly doth feele The gyre of his eternal wheele, Nor would he now exchange his paine For cloudes and goddesses againe.
Wouldst thou with tempests lye? Then bow To th' rougher furrows of her brow, Or make a thunder-bolt thy choyce? Then catch at her more fatal voyce; Or 'gender with the lightning? trye The subtler<49.4> flashes of her eye: Poore SEMELE<49.5> wel knew the same, Who<49.6> both imbrac't her God and flame; And not alone in soule did burne, But in this love did ashes turne.
How il doth majesty injoy The bow and gaity oth' boy, As if the purple-roabe should sit, And sentence give ith' chayr of wit.
Say, ever-dying wretch, to whom Each answer is a certaine doom,<49.7> What is it that you would possesse, The Countes, or the naked Besse?<49.8> Would you her gowne or title do? Her box or gem, the<49.9> thing or show? If you meane HER, the very HER, Abstracted from her caracter, Unhappy boy! you may as soone With fawning wanton with the Moone, Or with an amorous complaint Get prostitute your very saint; Not that we are not mortal, or Fly VENUS altars, and<49.10> abhor The selfesame knack, for which you pine; But we (defend us!) are divine, [Not] female, but madam born,<49.11> and come From a right-honourable wombe. Shal we then mingle with the base, And bring a silver-tinsell race? Whilst th' issue noble wil not passe The gold alloyd<49.12> (almost halfe brasse), And th' blood in each