Selected quad for the lemma: lord_n
Text snippets containing the quad
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A52858
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Romes follies, or, The amorous fryars a comedy, as it was lately acted at a person of qualitie's house.
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Nowell, N.
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1681
(1681)
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Wing N52; ESTC R5200
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29,738
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66
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Romes Follies Or the Amorous FRYARS A COMEDY As it was lately Acted at a Person of Qualitie's HOUSE LONDON Printed for N. Nowell 1681 To the Right Honourable Anthony Ashley Cooper Earl of Shaftsbury Baron Ashley of Wimborn and St. Giles and Lord Cooper of Pawlet and to the Right Honourable William Lord Howard Baron of Escrick My LORDS IT hath been the humor of most Writers in our Age to magnify their Patrons so far above the Sphere of Nature as to make of them more than Demi-Gods and with those servile glitterings of Flattery have they endeavoured to be for ever cherished in the Breasts of the Great But my Lords as it is against my Temper to dip my pen in such fashionable oyl so am I sensible your virtues need not that varnished Lustre But Truth needs no Gloss and She hath taken care to illustrate your worths to the whole Nation It is She that saith you have ever appeared active for the publick safety without the least shadow of any sinister design It is She that saith it was your wisdoms unravelled the black and damnable Conspiracies of our Enemies against our Gracious King and Government and prudently endeavoured to defeat those mischiefs which were coming upon us and for your Recompence their Revenge Shrowded you in a bewailed Confinement for a time but now you are freed from that injurious Eclyps and now your Innocencies Triumph again The hand of Providence hath wonderfully shamed and confounded the Nation 's and your Enemies who may now blush at their Actions and holding down their Heads disconsolately cry out the Snare we have laid for others we are fallen into our selves I question not but these sordid whymsical and ridiculous Contrivances of theirs have created many Converts and that those whose eyes were but half open before do now see as plain as the Sun is visible to them at Noon that Plots and no Plots and Protestant-Plots too are all but one Hellish Popish Plot however curiously the Roman Anatomists have endeavoured to dissect it My Lords it may be thought a great presumption in me to offer you a Play which never run the Risk of an hiss on either of the Theaters some will say it ought not to pass Muster for that very reason But my Lords I can boldly affirm say that this is not the first Play that hath been published not Acted on the publick Stage Mr. Dryden's Fall of Man tho' an excellent Poem yet never appeared there I could name many more had I not other reasons perhaps more important for the non-acting of it at either of those places the Subject being not a little Satyrical against the Romanists would very much hinder its taking and would be far more difficult to get play'd than Caesar Borgio was or if it should chance to have been played might have found a colder entertainment than Tegue O Divelly The Irish Priest at the Duke's Theatre merely for the Subjects sake The Reasons I have humbly offered your Lordships will I hope gain your approbation in the necessity of its not having been offered to be Acted at either of the Houses And tho' your Lordships Wisdoms may esteem Plays as no other than pleasing vanities so judg this not worth your Grave perusals Yet I will be bold to inform you that you will find here some Truths as well as Truthless Fancies It therefore implores your favourable acceptance as the Author doth your Pardons with a Candid Construction of his presumption who subscribes himself My LORDS Your Honours most humble and Obedient Servant N. N. The PROLOGVE 'T is hard adventuring in this giddy Age To make a Pope or Fryer grace a Stage When many partial Eyes with Anger stares And Pens are fall'n together by the Ears Fye this is impious saith a Popish Sire Thus to abuse a Churches Holy Fryer You Cursed Poet by what Godly Rule Dost thou Religion turn to Ridicule The truely Ancient Doctrine too below Which from the first to th' present Age did flow But saith the Poet then tho no Divine Clouds muffle up that Sun which once did shine Such Poys'nous Damps of Error deck it round Whose stifling Follies doth the World confound To soyl what 's sacred he 's not such an Elf He writes of what hath ridicul'd it self And thus in Comedy he deals while he Might have depicted Rome in Tragedy With Streams of Blood running through ev'ry Street And Bleeding Martyrs at their Murth'rers Feet But that which now will be the pretty'st Jigg He will like some of you be thought a Whigg In Conscience tho I 'll clear him here before ye He 's known for neither Papist Whigg nor Tory. Oh monstrous strange cry you What is he then And what the Devil must we make o' th' Man E'en what you will he 's at your Mercy now And tho you 'r Critical some kindness show He 's Plotter also turn'd have pitty on him If 's Plot takes not the Pope hath near undone him 'T is true here are no Scaenes to Grace our Show No middle Gallery nor Pitt below What if our Stage thus nakedly appears If not your Eyes we 'll strive to please your Ears Men ACTORS Marforio An old Rich Neapolitan Doctor of Physick in Love with Florimel Father Turbin A Lascivious Fryer but hath the Vogue of Holy in Love with Florimel Father Lupin His Comrade in Love with Isabella Senior Ronsard An Italian old Gentleman Father to Florimel The Pope with Cardinals Bishops and other Attendants Old Croff a Jesuit and great Negromancer The Ghost of Pope Clement the First Boniface the Eighth Gregory the Third Innocent the Third Pope Joan. Women Actors Florimel An Airy young Lady Daughter to Ronsard Married afterwards to Marforio in Love with Father Turbin Isabella her woman in Love with Father Lupin 1. Woman a Neighbour 2. Woman a Neghbour Quiristers Fryers Rabble c. Scaene The City of Rome Romes Follies Or the Amorous FRYARS A Comedy ACT the 1st Scaene a Chamber Enter Florimel and Isabella Flor. BUT are you in earnest Isabella Do you think that old impotent Picture of December would cloath himself with Blooming Flowers of chearful May Ridiculous Fool Doth he think that cold sapless shrivell'd Age can agree with the warmth of tender Youth Marry me let him Marry a winding-Sheet that 's fitter for him Isa I 'm only suspicious Madam for he never sees you at Mass but he looks on you as if he would eat you if he chance to be at too great a distance from you he claps his Spectacles on his Nose and makes the whole Congregation stare at him for his staring at you Come I believe it must be a Match at last tho' a very unequal one especially if he asks your Father's consent for you know the old rotten piece of Flesh is Rich and Riches are tempting Flo. You say right in that my Father not being much beholding to Fortune I must expect no great matters from him the old Fool 's Riches