Errors in it infinitely more obvious to Your Eye, than a greater Part of
the Polite World; however, as it had the Fortune to be well receiv'd, and
by some of the best Judges esteem'd much preferable to any of my former,
and as it was highly favour'd the Third Night with as beautiful an
Appearance of Nobility, and other fine Ladies, as ever yet Grac'd a
Theatre. I hope, you'll in some measure Protect it, at least that you'll
pardon this Presumption, since I have long pleas'd my self with the Hopes,
and impatiently waited an Opportunity of publickly declaring how much I
am,

_SIR_,

_Your most Devoted,
and Obedient humble Servant_,




PROLOGUE.

Written by Mr. MOTTEUX.


_So long the solitary Stage has mourn'd,
Sure now you're pleas'd to find our Sports return'd.
When Warriors come triumphant, all will smile,
And Love wirh Conquest crown the Toyls of_ Lille.
_Tho from the Field of Glory you're no Starters,
Few love all Fighting, and no Winter-Quarters.
Chagrin French Generals cry_, Gens temerare