The prologue and epilogue to the last new play, Constantine the Great
         Otway, Thomas, 1652-1685.
      
       
         
           1683
        
      
       Approx. 6 KB of XML-encoded text transcribed from 2 1-bit group-IV TIFF page images.
       
         Text Creation Partnership,
         Ann Arbor, MI ; Oxford (UK) :
         2008-09 (EEBO-TCP Phase 1).
         A70758
         Wing O557
         ESTC R1636
         12265183
         ocm 12265183
         58018
         
           
            This keyboarded and encoded edition of the work described above is co-owned by the institutions providing financial support to the Early English Books Online Text Creation Partnership. This Phase I text is available for reuse, according to the terms of
             Creative Commons 0 1.0 Universal
            . The text can be copied, modified, distributed and performed, even for commercial purposes, all without asking permission.
          
        
      
       
         Early English books online.
      
       
         (EEBO-TCP ; phase 1, no. A70758)
         Transcribed from: (Early English Books Online ; image set 58018)
         Images scanned from microfilm: (Early English books, 1641-1700 ; 181:23 or 724:32)
      
       
         
           
             The prologue and epilogue to the last new play, Constantine the Great
             Otway, Thomas, 1652-1685.
             Lee, Nathaniel, 1653?-1692. Constantine the Great.
             Dryden, John, 1631-1700.
          
           1 sheet ([2] p.)
           
             Printed for C. Tebroc,
             [London] :
             1683.
          
           
             In verse.
             The prologue to Lee's Constantine the Great was written by T. Otway; the epilogue by Dryden. Cf. DNB.
             "Prologue spoken by Mr. Goodman"
             "Epilogue spoken by Mrs. Cook"
             Place of publication from Wing.
             Title on reel 724:32 lacks the initial article "The".
             This item appears at reel 180:23 as Wing D2332A (number cancelled in Wing 2nd ed.), and at reel 724:32 as Wing (CD-ROM, 1996) O557.
             Reproduction of original in Huntington Library.
          
        
      
    
     
       
         Created by converting TCP files to TEI P5 using tcp2tei.xsl, TEI @ Oxford.
         Re-processed by University of Nebraska-Lincoln and Northwestern, with changes to facilitate morpho-syntactic tagging. Gap elements of known extent have been transformed into placeholder characters or elements to simplify the filling in of gaps by user contributors.
      
       
         EEBO-TCP is a partnership between the Universities of Michigan and Oxford and the publisher ProQuest to create accurately transcribed and encoded texts based on the image sets published by ProQuest via their Early English Books Online (EEBO) database (http://eebo.chadwyck.com). The general aim of EEBO-TCP is to encode one copy (usually the first edition) of every monographic English-language title published between 1473 and 1700 available in EEBO.
         EEBO-TCP aimed to produce large quantities of textual data within the usual project restraints of time and funding, and therefore chose to create diplomatic transcriptions (as opposed to critical editions) with light-touch, mainly structural encoding based on the Text Encoding Initiative (http://www.tei-c.org).
         The EEBO-TCP project was divided into two phases. The 25,363 texts created during Phase 1 of the project have been released into the public domain as of 1 January 2015. Anyone can now take and use these texts for their own purposes, but we respectfully request that due credit and attribution is given to their original source.
         Users should be aware of the process of creating the TCP texts, and therefore of any assumptions that can be made about the data.
         Text selection was based on the New Cambridge Bibliography of English Literature (NCBEL). If an author (or for an anonymous work, the title) appears in NCBEL, then their works are eligible for inclusion. Selection was intended to range over a wide variety of subject areas, to reflect the true nature of the print record of the period. In general, first editions of a works in English were prioritized, although there are a number of works in other languages, notably Latin and Welsh, included and sometimes a second or later edition of a work was chosen if there was a compelling reason to do so.
         Image sets were sent to external keying companies for transcription and basic encoding. Quality assurance was then carried out by editorial teams in Oxford and Michigan. 5% (or 5 pages, whichever is the greater) of each text was proofread for accuracy and those which did not meet QA standards were returned to the keyers to be redone. After proofreading, the encoding was enhanced and/or corrected and characters marked as illegible were corrected where possible up to a limit of 100 instances per text. Any remaining illegibles were encoded as <gap>s. Understanding these processes should make clear that, while the overall quality of TCP data is very good, some errors will remain and some readable characters will be marked as illegible. Users should bear in mind that in all likelihood such instances will never have been looked at by a TCP editor.
         The texts were encoded and linked to page images in accordance with level 4 of the TEI in Libraries guidelines.
         Copies of the texts have been issued variously as SGML (TCP schema; ASCII text with mnemonic sdata character entities); displayable XML (TCP schema; characters represented either as UTF-8 Unicode or text strings within braces); or lossless XML (TEI P5, characters represented either as UTF-8 Unicode or TEI g elements).
         
          Keying and markup guidelines are available at the
           Text Creation Partnership web site
          .
        
      
       
         
         
      
    
     
       
         eng
      
       
         
           Constantine -- I, -- Emperor of Rome, d. 337 -- Poetry.
           Prologues and epilogues.
           Broadsides -- England -- London -- 17th century.
        
      
    
     
        2007-02 TCP
        Assigned for keying and markup
      
        2007-03 Apex CoVantage
        Keyed and coded from ProQuest page images
      
        2007-04 Celeste Ng
        Sampled and proofread
      
        2007-04 Celeste Ng
        Text and markup reviewed and edited
      
        2008-02 pfs
        Batch review (QC) and XML conversion
      
    
  
   
     
       
         
         
           THE
           Prologue
           and
           Epilogue
           ,
           
             TO
             THE
             LAST
             NEW
             PLAY
          
           ;
           Constantine
           the
           Great
           .
        
         
           
             PROLOGUE
             .
             
               Spoken
               by
            
             Mr.
             Goodman
             .
          
           
             WHat
             think
             ye
             meant
             Wise
             Providence
             ,
             when
             first
          
           
             POETS
             were
             made
             ?
             I
             'de
             tell
             you
             if
             I
             durst
             .
          
           
             That
             't
             was
             in
             Contradiction
             to
             Heaven's
             Word
             ,
          
           
             That
             when
             its
             Spirit
             o're
             the
             Waters
             stir'd
             ,
          
           
             When
             it
             saw
             All
             ,
             and
             said
             that
             All
             was
             good
             ,
          
           
             The
             Creature
             POET
             was
             not
             understood
             .
          
           
             For
             were
             it
             worth
             the
             pains
             of
             Six
             long
             Days
             ,
          
           
             To
             Mould
             Retailers
             of
             dull
             Third-Day-Plays
             ,
          
           
             That
             starve
             out
             Three-score
             Years
             in
             Hopes
             of
             Bays
             .
          
           
             'T
             is
             plain
             they
             ne're
             were
             of
             the
             First
             Creation
             ,
          
           
             But
             came
             by
             meer
             Equiv'cal
             Generation
             .
          
           
             Like
             Rats
             in
             Ships
             ,
             without
             Coition
             bred
             ;
          
           
             As
             hated
             too
             ,
             as
             they
             are
             ,
             and
             unfed
             .
          
           
             Nature
             their
             Species
             sure
             must
             needs
             disown
             ,
          
           
             Scarce
             knowing
             POETS
             ,
             less
             by
             POETS
             known
             .
          
           
             Yet
             this
             Poor
             Thing
             so
             scorn'd
             ,
             and
             set
             at
             nought
             ,
          
           
             Ye
             all
             pretend
             to
             ,
             and
             would
             fain
             be
             thought
             .
          
           
             Disabl'd
             wasting
             Whore-Masters
             ,
             are
             not
          
           
             Prouder
             to
             own
             the
             Brats
             they
             never
             got
             ;
          
           
             Then
             Fumbling
             Itching
             Rhimers
             of
             the
             Town
             ,
          
           
             T'
             Adopt
             some
             base
             Born
             Song
             that
             's
             not
             their
             own
             .
          
           
             Spite
             of
             his
             State
             ,
             my
             Lord
             sometimes
             Descends
             ,
          
           
             To
             please
             the
             Importunity
             of
             Friends
             .
          
           
             The
             dullest
             He
             thought
             most
             for
             business
             fit
             ,
          
           
             'T
             will
             Venture
             his
             bought
             Place
             ,
             to
             Aim
             at
             Wit.
          
           
             And
             though
             He
             sinks
             with
             His
             Imploys
             of
             State
             ,
          
           
             Till
             Common
             Sense
             forsake
             Him
             ,
             He
             'l
             Translate
             .
          
           
             The
             POET
             and
             the
             WHORE
             ,
             alike
             Complains
          
           
             Of
             Trading
             Quality
             ,
             that
             spoils
             their
             Gains
             ;
          
           
             The
             Lords
             will
             Write
             ,
             and
             Ladies
             will
             have
             Swains
             .
          
           
             Therefore
             all
             you
             ,
             who
             have
             Male
             Issue
             born
             ,
          
           
             Under
             the
             Starving
             Sign
             of
             CAPRICORN
             ;
          
           
             Prevent
             the
             Malice
             of
             their
             Stars
             in
             Time
             ,
          
           
             And
             warn
             them
             Early
             from
             the
             Sin
             of
             Rhime
             .
          
           
             Tell
             'em
             how
             Spencer
             starv'd
             ,
             how
             Cowley
             mourn'd
             ,
          
           
             How
             
             Butler's
             Faith
             and
             Service
             was
             return'd
             ;
          
           
             And
             if
             such
             Warning
             they
             refuse
             to
             take
             ,
          
           
             This
             last
             Experiment
             ,
             O
             Parents
             make
             !
          
           
             With
             Hands
             behind
             them
             see
             the
             Offender
             ty'd
             ,
          
           
             The
             Parish
             Whip
             ,
             and
             Beadle
             by
             his
             Side
             .
          
           
             Then
             lead
             him
             to
             some
             Stall
             that
             does
             Expose
          
           
             The
             Authors
             he
             loves
             most
             ,
             there
             rub
             his
             Nose
             .
          
           
             Till
             like
             a
             Spannel
             lasht
             ,
             to
             know
             Command
             ,
          
           
             He
             by
             the
             due
             Correction
             understand
             ,
          
           
             To
             keep
             his
             Brains
             clean
             ,
             and
             not
             foul
             the
             Land.
          
           
             Till
             he
             against
             his
             Nature
             learn
             to
             strive
             ,
          
           
             And
             get
             the
             Knack
             of
             Dulness
             how
             to
             Thrive
             .
          
        
         
           
           
             EPILOGUE
             .
          
           
             
               Spoken
               by
               Mrs.
            
             COOK
             ,
          
           
             OUR
             
             Hero's
             Happy
             in
             the
             Plays
             Conclusion
             ,
          
           
             The
             Holy
             Rogue
             at
             last
             has
             met
             Confusion
             ;
          
           
             Tho'
             Arrius
             all
             along
             appear'd
             a
             Saint
             ,
          
           
             The
             last
             Act
             shew'd
             him
             a
             True
             Protestant
             :
          
           
             Eusebius
             (
             for
             you
             know
             I
             Read
             Greek
             Authors
             )
          
           
             Reports
             ,
             That
             after
             all
             these
             Plots
             and
             Slaughters
             ,
          
           
             The
             Court
             of
             CONSTANTINE
             was
             full
             of
             Glory
             ,
          
           
             And
             every
             TRIMMER
             turn'd
             Addressing
             TORY
             :
          
           
             They
             Followed
             Him
             in
             Herds
             as
             they
             were
             Mad
             ,
          
           
             When
             CAVSE
             was
             King
             then
             all
             the
             World
             was
             Glad
             :
          
           
             WHIGGS
             kept
             the
             Places
             they
             Possess'd
             before
             ,
          
           
             And
             most
             were
             in
             a
             Way
             of
             Getting
             more
             ;
          
           
             Which
             was
             as
             much
             as
             to
             say
             —
             Gentlemen
             ,
          
           
             
               Here
               's
               Power
               and
               Money
               to
               be
            
             ROGUES
             agen
             .
          
           
             Indeed
             there
             were
             a
             sort
             of
             peaking
             Tools
             ,
          
           
             (
             Some
             call
             'em
             Modest
             ,
             but
             I
             call
             'em
             Fools
             ,
          
           
             Men
             much
             more
             Loyal
             ,
             though
             not
             half
             so
             
               Loud
               ,
            
             )
          
           
             But
             these
             Poor
             Devils
             were
             Cast
             Behind
             the
             Crowd
             .
          
           
             For
             Bold
             Knaves
             Thrive
             without
             one
             Grain
             of
             Sense
             ,
          
           
             But
             Good
             Men
             Starve
             for
             want
             of
             Impudence
             .
          
           
             Besides
             all
             these
             there
             were
             a
             sort
             of
             Wights
             ,
          
           
             I
             think
             my
             Authour
             calls
             'em
             Teckelites
             :
          
           
             Such
             hearty
             Rogues
             against
             the
             King
             and
             Laws
             ,
          
           
             They
             favour'd
             even
             a
             Forreign
             Rebell
             's
             Cause
             .
          
           
             When
             their
             own
             Damn'd
             Design
             was
             quasht
             and
             aw'd
             ,
          
           
             At
             last
             they
             gave
             it
             their
             Good
             Word
             abroad
             ;
          
           
             As
             many
             a
             Man
             ,
             who
             for
             a
             quiet
             life
             ,
          
           
             Sends
             out
             his
             Bastard
             ,
             not
             to
             Nose
             his
             Wife
             :
          
           
             Thus
             o're
             their
             Darling
             
               Treason
               Trimmers
            
             Cry
             ,
          
           
             And
             though
             they
             dare
             not
             Her
             ,
             it
             wants
             Supply
             ,
          
           
             They
             Bind
             it
             Prentice
             to
             Count
             TECKELEY
             .
          
           
             They
             believe
             not
             the
             last
             PLOT
             ,
             may
             I
             be
             Curst
             ,
          
           
             If
             I
             believe
             ,
             they
             e're
             believ'd
             the
             first
             .
          
           
             No
             Wonder
             their
             own
             PLOT
             ,
             no
             PLOT
             they
             think
             ,
          
           
             The
             Man
             that
             makes
             it
             never
             Smells
             the
             STINK
             .
          
           
             And
             now
             it
             comes
             into
             my
             Mind
             ,
             I
             'le
             tell
             ,
          
           
             Why
             those
             Damn'd
             Trimmers
             love
             the
             TVRK
             so
             well
             ;
          
           
             Th'
             Original
             Trimmer
             ,
             tho'
             a
             Friend
             to
             no
             Man
             ,
          
           
             Yet
             in
             his
             heart
             Ador'd
             a
             pretty
             Woman
             :
          
           
             He
             knew
             that
             MAHOMET
             laid
             up
             for
             Ever
          
           
             Kind
             Black-Ey'd
             Rogues
             for
             ev'ry
             True
             Believer
             .
          
           
             And
             which
             was
             more
             then
             Mortal
             Man
             e're
             Tasted
             ,
          
           
             One
             Pleasure
             that
             for
             Threescore
             Twelve-Months
             lasted
             :
          
           
             To
             Turn
             for
             this
             may
             surely
             be
             Forgiven
             ,
          
           
             who
             'd
             not
             be
             Circumcis'd
             for
             such
             a
             HEAVEN
             ?
          
        
      
    
     
       
         
           Printed
           for
           
             C.
             Tebroc
          
           ,
           1683.