Prologue to Dame Dobson the cunning woman spoken by Mrs. Currer. Epilogue to the same : spoken by Mr. Jevorn. Dame Dobson. Prologue Ravenscroft, Edward, 1654?-1707. 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) : 2003-09 (EEBO-TCP Phase 1). A58119 Wing R336 ESTC R14077 12648612 ocm 12648612 65233 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. A58119) Transcribed from: (Early English Books Online ; image set 65233) Images scanned from microfilm: (Early English books, 1641-1700 ; 774:14) Prologue to Dame Dobson the cunning woman spoken by Mrs. Currer. Epilogue to the same : spoken by Mr. Jevorn. Dame Dobson. Prologue Ravenscroft, Edward, 1654?-1707. 1 sheet ([2] p.) Printed for Jo. Hindmarsh ..., London : 1683. Broadside. Attributed by Wing to the dramatist, Edward Ravenscroft. 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. 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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 Broadsides -- England -- London -- 17th century 2003-04 TCP Assigned for keying and markup 2003-05 SPi Global Keyed and coded from ProQuest page images 2003-06 John Latta Sampled and proofread 2003-06 John Latta Text and markup reviewed and edited 2003-08 pfs Batch review (QC) and XML conversion PROLOGUE to Dame Dobson the Cunning Woman . Spoken by Mrs. CURRER . GAllants , I vow I am quite out of heart , I 've not one smutty Jest in all my part . Here 's not one Scene of tickling Rallery ; There we quite lose the Pit and Gallery . His London Cuckolds did afford you sport . That pleas'd the Town , and did divert the Court. But 'cause some squeamish Females of renown Made visits with design to cry it down , He swore in 's Rage he would their humors fit , And write the next without one word of Wit. No Line in this will tempt your minds to Evil , It 's true , 't is dull , but then 't is very civil . No double sense shall now your thoughts beguile , Make Lady Blush , nor Ogling Gallant Smile . But mark the Fate of this mis-judging Fool ! A Bawdy Play was never counted Dull , Nor modest Comedy e're pleas'd you much , 'T is relish'd like good Manners 'mongst the Dutch. In you , Chast Ladies , then we hope to day , This is the Poets Recantation Play Come often to 't that he at length may see 'T is more than a pretended Modesty : Stick by him now , for if he finds you falter , He quickly will his way of writing alter ; And every Play shall send you blushing home , For , tho you rail , yet then we 're sure you 'll come . Thus Brides are Coy and Bashful the first night , But us'd to 't once , are mad for their delight . Do not the Whiggish Nature then pursue , Lest like Whig-Writer , he desert you too . Whig-Poet when he can no longer Thrive , Turns Cat in Pan and writes his Narrative . No Irish Witness sooner shall recant , Nor oftner play the Devil or the Saint . EPILOGUE to the Same ! Spoken by Mr. JEVORN . THo I am no great Conjurer you see , Nor deal in Devil or Astrology , Yet from your Physnomies I shrewdly guess The Poet stole the French Divineress But let not that , pray , put you in a passion , Kidnapping has of late been much in fashion . If Alderman did Spirit men away , Why may not Poets then Kidnap a Play ? Poets are Planters , Stage is their Plantation , But tho they are for Trade and Propagation , Yet don't like Thievish Whiggs Rob their own Nation . But , Fellow Citizens , beware Entrapping , For , whilst y' are busie sending Folks to Wapping , ' Ygad your Wives e'ne go abroad Kidnapping . Tending to this , of late I heard such stories , That I for safety Marry'd 'mongst the Tories . And see from City Prigg I am become A Beau Garcon , a man of th' Sword : rare Thumb ! Ierné I am all Tory now , par ma foy I hate a Whigg : I 'm l'Officiere du Roy. And now I bid defiance to the City , Nor Whig , nor Critick shall from me have pitty . And as in Valour , I in Wit am grown , Then to 'em Gillet ; let 'em know their own . You Whigs , but Criticks are amongst the Cits And Criticks are meer Whigs amongst the Wits . Thro your cross Nature you 'l no mercy show , But would the Monarchy of Wit o're throw ; And Criticks here with the same spirit stickle For Liberty , as Whigs in Conventicle 'Gainst Sheriffs and Poets equally you Baul , You Riot in a Play-House , they 't Guild-Hall . But Noise , you see , and Faction often fails , Law is our Shield against your Prot'stant Flails Law and large Fines may send you all to Jails . And if you Criticks here are troublesome I 'l Diametrically upon you come . And maul you with my Charm , Firm , Close , Standfast Thumb ! Then there 's your Wheadling Critick , seems a Friend , Commends by halves , and with a But i' th' end , Has sly reserves which still to Faction tend . They praise a Play , and on the Poet fleer , But , his back turn'd , loll out their tongue and Jeer. Thus amongst Wits , as Whiggs too , these are Trimmers , They 'r like a sort of Half Crowns we call Swimmers . Broad to the Eye , but though the Stamp seems fair Weigh 'em they 're light , and damn'd mixt Metal are . These blame the City , but uphold their Charter , They Rail at Treason ; but give Traitors Quarter , And when a Rebel 's hang'd , they stile him Martyr . For Perjur'd Villains they wou'd have Reprieve And to False Witnesses can Pensions give , Yet won't allow a Mayor may choose his Sheriff . They cry , to Magistrates we 'l give all Honor : But let 's have Law : — Then Holloo — take him Coroner . But , Friends , don't think that you shall longer Sham us , Or that we 'll Bugbear'd be by your Mandamus ; You see Dame Dobsons Devil long was famous , But fail'd at last : so will your Ignoramus . London : Printed for Io. Hindmarsh , Bookseller to his Royal Highness , at the Black Bull in Cornhil , 1683.