Carlell, Lodowick · published 1629 · first performed or written 1629 [c.1622-1629] (Annals) tragicomedy · King's Men · before the Court T9 Theatre talk: prologues, poets and playe typicality 0.76 · 513 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T9: play, stage, poet, prologue, author, wit, plays, muse, scene, players.
do not expect strong Lines, nor Mirth, though they justly the Town-wits, and the Vulgar sway: What hope have we then that our Play can please This more judicious Presence, wanting these? We have a hope (the Author says) this Night Love in our weakness shall express his might. He in each Noble breast himself will place; The Subject being all Love then, must find grace: Yes you may say, if it be well expressed, Else love doth censure him from out our breast: Thus what he hoped should help him, if he err In the expression, turns his Censurer. I for the Author stand, and in his Name Do here renounce the glory or the shame Of this night's work: Great Love, this Play is thine, Work Miracles, and show thyself Divine; Change these rude lines into a sweet smooth Strain, Which were the weak effects of a dull Brain: If in this Prologue Contradictions move, That best expresses: it was writ by Love. COme, prithee tell me brother, why art sad. From thee my dearest Sister I have not hid my nearest touching secrets: Thou know'st how truly I did love, And how at last I gained my dear Clarinda. I do; and wish that I could tell you such a secret of mine own; for of all men living, I think you most happy. Most miserable of men. How can that be! is not Clarinda yours? In which (were I a man) I should believe More happiness consisted, then for to be a Monarch. Clarinda yet is mine. Nothing can take her from you but the grave, I hope she is not sick. Nothing can take her from me dear Mariana, But I must give her. Why, love you any one so well to give away your heart I know she's dearer to you? She's so much dearer to me than my heart, That I must kill my heart if I do give her. Be plain sweet brother. The Duke who is too near a kin in love And blood to our dread Sovereign to be denied, Dies for Clarinda. Why, think you she'll prove false? she false! Oh no: It is I must play the traitor to myself Virtue doth undermine my happiness, And blows it up. I must release my interest In Clarinda, that she may marry this lovesick Duke, And save his Life. Why who compels it? Gratitude compels it; For to the Duke I owe my life and fortunes, My fortunes when my wicked Uncle would have Wrested from me by false witness that state Which I am now possessed of; which the Duke finding, He employed his power, and so I had my right: My life I then received: when I was rescued By his valour from the dreadful boar, Which I (too young) thrust on by honour, ventured to assail, Yet all these obligations touch me not so near, As doth the danger of the Count Utrante, (Clarinda's Father) who hath been long a prisoner, For the same cause for which my Father fled.
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Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
DOe not expect ſtrong Lines, nor Mirth, though they Iuſtly the Towne-wits, and the Vulgar ſway: What hope haue we then that our Play can pleaſe This more Iudicious Preſence, wanting theſe? We haue a hope (the Author ſayes) this Night Loue in our weakneſſe ſhall expreſſe his might. He in each Noble breſt himſelfe will place; The Subiect being all Loue then, muſt finde grace: Yes you may ſay, if it bee well expreſt, Elſe loue doth cenſure him from out our breſt: Thus what he hop'd ſhould helpe him, if he erre In the expreſſion, turnes his Cenſurer. I for the Author ſtand, and in his Name Doe here renounce the glory or the ſhame Of this Nights worke: Great Loue, this Play is thine, Worke Miracles, and ſhew thy ſelfe Diuine; Change theſe rude lines into a ſweet ſmooth Straine, Which were the weake effects of a dull Braine: If in this Prologue Contradictions moue, That beſt expreſſes: it was writ by Loue. COme, prethee tell me brother, why ar't ſad. From thee my deareſt Siſter I haue not hid my neereſt touching ſecrets: Thou know'ſt how truly I did loue, And how at laſt I gain'd my deare Clarinda. I doe; and wiſh that I could tell you ſuch a ſecret of mine owne; for of all men liuing, I thinke you moſt happy. Moſt miſerable of men. How can that be! is not Clarinda yours? In which (were I a man) I ſhould beleeue More happineſſe conſiſted, then for to be a Monarch. Clarinda yet is mine. Nothing can take her from you but the graue, I hope ſhe is not ſicke. Nothing can take her from me deare Mariana, But I muſt giue her. Why, loue you any one ſo wel to giue away your heart I know ſhee's dearer to you? She's ſo much deerer to me then my heart, That I muſt kill my heart if I doe giue her. Be plaine ſweet brother. The Duke who is too neere a kin in loue And bloud to our dread Soueraigne to be deny'd, Dyes for Clarinda. Why, thinke you ſhee'l proue falſe? Shee falſe! Oh no: It is I muſt play the traytor to my ſelfe Vertue doth vndermine my happineſſe, And blowes it vp. I muſt releaſe my intereſt In Clarinda, that ſhe may marry this loue-ſicke Duke, And ſaue his Life. Why who compels it? Gratitude compels it; For to the Duke I owe my life and fortunes, My fortunes when my wicked Vncle would haue Wreſted from me by falſe witneſſe that ſtate Which I am now poſſeſt of; which the Duke finding, He imploy'd his power, and ſo I had my right: My life I then receiued: when I was reſcued By his valour from the dreadfull bore, Which I (too young) thruſt on by honor, venterd to aſſayle, Yet all theſe obligations touch me not ſo neere, As doth the danger of the Count Ʋtrante, (Clarinda's Father) who hath beene long a priſoner, For the ſame cauſe for which my Father fled.