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A59307
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The Empress of Morocco a tragedy, with sculptures / written by Elkanah Settle ...
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Settle, Elkanah, 1648-1724.
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1673
(1673)
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Wing S2678; ESTC R223430
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43,365
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92
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The Empress of MOROCCO A TRAGEDY WITH Sculptures As it is Acted at the Duke's Theatre Written by Elkanah Settle Servant to his Majesty Primâ—…s da versibus annos Petr. Arb. LONDON Printed for William Cademan at the Popes-head in the Lower Walk of the New Exchange in the Strand 1673. TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE HENRY EARL of Norwich and EARL-Marshal of ENGLAND c. My Lord THe Impudence of Scriblers in this Age has so corrupted the Original Designe of Dedications that before I dare tell you this trifle begs your Lordships Protection I ought first to Examine on what grounds I make the Attacque for now every thing that e're saw the Stage how modest soever it has been there without daring to shew ' its Face above three Dayes has yet the Arrogance to thrust it self into the World in Print with a Great Name before it Where the fawning Scribler shall compendiously say the factions of Critiques the Ill time of the Year and the worse Acting of the Players has prejudiced his Play but he doubts not but his Grace or his Honour 's more impartial Judgment will find that pardonable which the World has so Maliciously Censur'd that is as much as to say Sir You are the only Person at Court whose blind side I dare venture on not doubting but your good Nature will excuse what all the World except the Author has justly condemned Thus they esteem their Plays as the Fanaticks do their Religion the better for suffering Persecution and to disguise their Shame and prop their Feeble Writings they make Dedications when their Playes are Damn'd as the Dutch do Bonefires when their Navies are beaten be their Success never so bad they still write themselves Conquerors And thus a Dedication which was formeâ—…ly a Present to a Person of Quality is now made a Libel on him whilst the Poet either supposes his Patron to be so great a Sot to defend that in Print which he hist off the Stage Or else makes himself a greater in aâ—…king a Favour from him which he ne're expects to obtain However that which is an abuse to the Patron is a Complement to the Bookseller who whispers the Poet and tells him Sir Your Play had misfortune and all that but if you 'd but writâ—… a Dedication or Preface The Poet takes the hint picks out a person of Honour tell him he has a great deal of Wit gives us an account who writ â—…ense in the last Age supposing we cannot be Ignorant who writes it in This Disputes the nature of Verse Aâ—…swers a Cavil or two Quibles upon the Court Huffs the Critiques and the work 's done 'T is not to be imagin'd how far a Sheet of this goes to make a Book-seller Rich and a Poet Famous But my Lord whilst I trouble you with this kind of discourse I beg you would not think I design to give Rules to the Press as some of our Tribe have done to the Stage or that I find fault with their Dedications in Complement to my own No that 's a trick â—… do not pretend to Besides your particular Favours in the publick Honours you have condescended to grant this Play and the Author have heightned my sense of Gratitude beyond my Power of expressing it This Play which for no other Merit 〈◊〉 take Sanctuary here throws it self at your feet as your own the Story of which I owe to your Hands and your honourable Embassy into Africa And on that score I present it to your Patronage as the Jews made their Sacrifices which we read took fire from Heaven The Incense was lighted by that Divinity to whom it was offer'd nor is this all I may modestly boast of For besides it's noble Birth you gâ—…ve it a noble Education when you bred it up amongst Princes presenting it in a Court-Theatre and by persons of such Birth and Honour that they borrow'd no Greatness from the Characters they acted Thus has your Lordship shew'd your self so great a Friend to the Muses that as in former ages the Poet made the Patron When all that 's left of a Maecenas is that Horace gave him a Name Your influence on the Contrary makes the Poet and if this Play Live or have Success enough to preserve a Name 't is by being your Creature and enjoying your Smiles which is the highest Ambition of MY LORD Your Lordships most Obliged and most Obedient Servant Elkanah Settle The first Prologue at Court spoken by the Lady ELIZABETH HOWARD I Wish you only did expect to day A common Prologue to some usual Play For when young Ladies are to speak to Kings You look that they should say no Vulgar things 'T is below us what meaner Actors do Either â—…'excuse our selves or rail at You. Nor come you here as to the Common Pit With the lest hope of finding fault with Wit Loves gentler Thoughts possess the Men of Sense At lest it shall be so e're they go hence Gallants take warning then ' tâ—…s time to fear When Youth and Beauties on the Stage appear Those Charms else-where are pretty dangerous found But here we shoot upon a Rising Ground No Heart can scape we have a mind to hit Unless 't is guarded by some Eyes 'i th Pit To Hearts engag'd our power does not extend And therefore Sir to you we humbly bend To the King Yet from your Constancy we need not fear To all fair Nymphs you keep an open Ear. No watching Eyes those soft alluring Wiles Can hinder you from giving Gracious Smiles Now for the Men Their praise should next be shewn But that I think were better let alone Written by the Earl of Mulgrave The second Prologue at Court spoken by the Lady ELIZABETH HOWARD WIT has of late took up a Trick t' appear Unmannerly or at the best severe And Poets share the Fate by which we fall When kindly we attempt to please you all 'T is hard your scorn should against such prevail Whose ends are to divert you tho' they fail You Men would think it an ilnatur'd Jest Should we laugh at you when you did your best Then rail not here though you see reason for 't If Wit can find it self no better sport Wit is a very foolish thing at Court Wit 's bus'ness is to please and not to fright 'T is no Wit to be always in the right You 'l find it none who dare be so to night Few so ill-bred will venture to a Play To spy out Faults in what we Women say For us no matter what we speak but how How kindly can we say I hate you now And for the men if you 'l laugh at e'm do They mind themselves so much they 'l ne're mind you But why do I descend to lose a Prayer On those small Saints in Wit the God sits there To you Great Sir my Message hither tends From Youth and Beauty your Allies and Friends See my Credentials written in my Face They challenge your Protection in this place