A civil prologue is approved by no man;
You hate it, as you do a civil woman: 
Your fancy’s palled, and liberally you pay
To have it quickened ere you see a play;
Just as old sinners, worn from their delight,
Give money to be whipped to appetite. 
But what a pox keep I so much ado
To save our poet?  He is one of you;
A brother judgment, and, as I hear say,
A cursed critic as e’er damned a play. 
Good savage gentlemen, your own kind spare;
He is, like you, a very wolf or bear;
Yet think not he’ll your ancient rights invade,
Or stop the course of your free damning trade;
For he (he vows) at no friend’s play can sit,
But he must needs find fault, to shew his wit: 
Then, for his sake, ne’er stint your own delight;
Throw boldly, for he sits to all that write;
With such he ventures on an even lay,
For they bring ready money into play. 
Those who write not, and yet all writers nick,
Are bankrupt gamesters, for they damn on tick.

DRAMATIS PERSONAE

LYSIMANTES, first Prince of the Blood. 
PHILOCLES, the Queen’s favourite. 
CELADON, a courtier.

Queen of Sicily. 
CANDIOPE, Princess of the Blood. 
ASTERIA, the Queen’s confident. 
FLORIMEL, a maid of honour. 
FLAVIA, another maid of honour. 
OLINDA, SABINA, Sisters. 
MELISSA, mother to OLINDA and SABINA.

Guards, Pages of Honour, Soldiers.

SCENE—­Sicily.

SECRET LOVE
OR THE
MAIDEN QUEEN.

ACT I.

SCENE I.—­Walks near the Court.

Enter CELADON and ASTERIA, meeting each other, he in a riding habit; they embrace.

Cel.  Dear Asteria!—­

Ast.  My dear brother, welcome!  A thousand welcomes!  Methinks, this year, you have been absent, has been so tedious:—­I hope, as you have made a pleasant voyage, so you have brought your good humour back again to court?

Cel.  I never yet knew any company I could not be merry in, except it were an old woman’s.

Ast.  Or at a funeral.

Cel.  Nay, for that you shall excuse me; for I was never merrier than I was at a creditor’s of mine, whose book perished with him.  But what new beauties have you at court?  How do Melissa’s two fair daughters?

Ast.  When you tell me which of them you are in love with, I’ll answer you.

Cel.  Which of them, naughty sister! what a question’s there?  With both of them; with each and singular of them.

Ast.  Bless me!—­You are not serious?

Cel.  You look, as if it were a wonder to see a man in love.  Are they not handsome?

Ast.  Ay; but both together—­

Cel.  Ay, and both asunder; why, I hope there are but two of them; the tall singing and dancing one, and the little innocent one?