Versos English George Colman PROLOGUE TO THE COMEDY OF THE SISTER, Written by Mrs. LENOX, Author of the FEMALE QUIXOTE, A Novel. Spoken by…

English poem

PROLOGUE TO THE COMEDY OF THE SISTER, Written by Mrs. LENOX, Author of the FEMALE QUIXOTE, A Novel. Spoken by…

by (1732–1794)

Listen in the reader

The Law of Custom is the Law of Fools— And yet the wise are govern'd by her rules. Why should Men only Prologue all our Plays; Gentlemen-Ushers to each modern Bayes? Why are the Fair to Epilogues confin'd, Whose tongues are loud, and gen'ral as the wind? Mark how in real life each sex is class'd! Woman has there the first word and the last.

Boast not your gallant deeds, romantick men! To-night a Female Quixote draws the pen. Arm'd by the Comick Muse these lists she enters, And sallies forth—in quest of strange Adventures! War, open War, 'gainst recreant Knights declares, Nor Giant-Vice, nor Windmill-Folly spares: Side-saddles Pegasus, and courts Apollo, While I (you see!) her Female Sancho, follow.

Ye that in this Enchanted Castle sit, Dames, 'Squires, and dark Magicians of the Pit, Smile on our fair Knight Errantry to-day, And raise no spells to blast a Female Play!

Oft has our Author, upon other ground, Courted your smiles, and oft indulgence found. Read in the closet you approv'd her page, Yet still she dreads the perils of the Stage. Reader with Writer due proportion keeps, And if the Poet nods, the Critick sleeps! If lethargied by dulness here you sit, Sonorous Catcalls rouse the sleeping Pit.

Plac'd at the threshold of the Weather-house, There stands a Pasteboard Husband, and his Spouse, Each doom'd to mark the changes of the Weather, But still—true Man and Wife! ne'er seen together. When low'ring clouds the face of Heav'n deform, The muffled Husband stands and braves the storm; But when the fury of the tempest's done, Break out at once the Lady and the Sun. Thus oft has Man, in Custom's beaten track, Come forth, as doleful Prologue, all in black! Gloomy Prognostick of the Bard's disgrace, With omens of foul weather in his face. Trick'd out in silks and smiles let me appear, And fix, as sign of peace, the Rainbow here; Raise your compassion and your mirth together, And prove to-day an emblem of fair weather!