PROLOGUE.

WIT in a prologue, poets justly may

Style a new imposition on a play.

When Shakspeare, Beaumont, Fletcher rul'd the stage, There scarce were ten good palates in the age,

More curious cooks than guests; for men would eat

Most heartily of any kind of meat;

And then what strange variety! each play,

A feast for epicures, and that each day.
But mark how oddly it is come about,

And how unluckily it now falls out:

The palates are grown higher, number increas'd,

And there wants that which should make up the feast.

And yet you're so unconscionable, you'd have,

Forsooth, of late, that which they never gave,

Banquets before, and after.

Now deuce take him that first good prologue writ,
He left a kind of rent-charge upon wit;

Which if succeeding poets fail to pay,

They forfeit all they're worth, and that's their play : You've ladies' humours, and you're grown to that, You will not like the man, 'less that his boots and hat Be right; no play, unless the prologue be,

And epilogue, writ to curiosity.

Well, Gentles, 'tis the grievance of the place,
And pray consider't, for here's just the case;
The richness of the ground is gone and spent,
Men's brains grow barren, and you raise the rent.

DRAMATIS PERSONE.

PRINCE, in love with SABRINA.

ORSABRIN, Brother to the Prince, yet unknown.

SAMORAT, beloved of SABRINA.

TAMOREN, King of the Thieves, disguised in Devil's habit.

PERIDOR, ambitious of REGINELLA, disguised in Devil's habit. STRAMADOR, a Courtier, Servant to the Prince.

ARDELLAN,

AN} formerly Servants to ORSABRIN's Father.

PIRAMONT,

PHONTRELL, Servant to PHILATELL.

SABRINA, beloved by SAMORAT.

REGINELLA, in love with ORSABRIN.

PHEMILIA, SABRINA'S Maid.

Captain and Soldiers, two Judges, two Lawyers, two Sergeants, Gaoler, Constable, Tailor,

Two Drawers, Fiddlers, Clowns and Wenches,

Thieves disguised in Devils' habits, living under ground by the woods. Guard, Attendants.

SCENE-FRANCELIA.

THE GOBLINS.

A COMEDY.

ACT I. SCENE I.

Enter as to a duel, SAMORAT, PHILATELL, TORCULAR.

Sam. But, my lords,

May not this harsh business

Yet be left undone?

Must you hate me because I love your sister;

And can you hate at no less rate than death?

Phil. No, at no less:

Thou art the blaster of our fortunes,

The envious cloud that dark'nest all our day.
While she thus prodigally and fondly

Throws away her love on thee,

She has not wherewithal to pay a debt
Unto the prince.

Sam. Is this all?

Torc. Faith, what if in short we do not think

You worthy of her?

Sam. I swear that shall not make a quarrel.

I think so too;

I've urg'd it often to myself:

Against myself have sworn't as oft to her,
Pray let this satisfy.

Phil. Sure, Torcular, he thinks we come to talk.

Look you, sir;

And, brother, since his friend has fail'd him,

Do you retire.

Torc. Excuse me, Philatell;

I have an equal interest in this,

And fortune shall decide it.

Phil. It will not need, he's come.

Enter ORSABRIN.

Orsa. Mercury protect me! what are these?

The brothers of the highway?

Phil. A stranger, by his habit.

Torc. And by his looks, a gentleman.

Sir, will you make one?

We want a fourth.

Orsa. I shall be robb'd with a trick now!

Sam. My lords, excuse me;

This is not civil.

In what concerns myself,

None but myself must suffer.

[Draws.

Orsa. A duel, by this light

Now has his modesty,

And t'other's forwardness warm'd me

[Goes towards them.

Gentlemen, I wear a sword,

And commonly in readiness.

If you want one, speak, sir.

I do not fear much suffering.
Sam. You're noble, sir;

I know not how t' invite you to it;
Yet there is justice on my side,

And since you please to be a witness

To our actions, 'tis fit you know our story.
Orsa. No story, sir, I beseech you --

The cause is good enough as 'tis,
It may be spoil'd i' th' telling.

Phil. Come, we trifle then.

[To SAMORAT.