The Songs to the new play of Don Quixote as they are sung at the Queen's Theatre in Dorset Garden / set by the most eminent masters of the age ; all written by Mr. D'urfey.

About this Item

Title
The Songs to the new play of Don Quixote as they are sung at the Queen's Theatre in Dorset Garden / set by the most eminent masters of the age ; all written by Mr. D'urfey.
Publication
London :: Printed by J. Heptinstall for Samuel Briscoe,
1694.
Rights/Permissions

To the extent possible under law, the Text Creation Partnership has waived all copyright and related or neighboring rights to this keyboarded and encoded edition of the work described above, according to the terms of the CC0 1.0 Public Domain Dedication (http://creativecommons.org/publicdomain/zero/1.0/). This waiver does not extend to any page images or other supplementary files associated with this work, which may be protected by copyright or other license restrictions. Please go to http://www.textcreationpartnership.org/ for more information.

Subject terms
Songs -- 16th-17th centuries.
Link to this Item
http://name.umdl.umich.edu/A37022.0001.001
Cite this Item
"The Songs to the new play of Don Quixote as they are sung at the Queen's Theatre in Dorset Garden / set by the most eminent masters of the age ; all written by Mr. D'urfey." In the digital collection Early English Books Online. https://name.umdl.umich.edu/A37022.0001.001. University of Michigan Library Digital Collections. Accessed May 13, 2025.

Pages

Page [unnumbered]

EPILOGUE To the First Part of DON QUIXOTE.

By Sancho Riding upon his Ass.
'MOngst our Fore-fathers, that pure Wit profest, There's an old Proverb, That two Heads are best. Dapple and I have therefore jogg'd this way, Through sheer good Nature, to defend this Play: Tho' I've no Friends, yet he (as proof may shew,) May have Relations here for ought I know. For in a Crowd, where various Heads are addle, May, many as Ass be, that ne'er wore a Saddle. 'Tis then for him that I this Speech intend, Because I know he is the Poet's Friend; And, as 'tis said, a parlous Ass once spoke, When Crab-tree Cudgel did his Rage provoke; So if you are not civil, 'sbud, I fear, He'll speak agen,╌ And tell the Ladies, every Dapple here. Take good Advice then, and with kindness win him, Tho' he looks simply, you don't know what's in him: He has shrewd Parts, and proper for his place, And yet no Plotter, you may see by's Face; He tells no Lyes, nor does Sedition vent, Nor ever Brays against the Government. Then for his Garb he's like the Spanish Nation, Still the old Mode, he never changes Fashion; His sober Carriage too you've seen to day, But for's Religion, troth, I cannot say Whether for Mason, Burgis, Muggleton, The House with Steeple, or the House with none; I rather think he's of your Pagan Crew, For he ne'er goes to Church╌no more than you. Some that would, by his Looks, guess his Opinion, Say, he's a Papish; others, a Socinian: But I believe him, if the truth were known, As th'rest of teh Town-Asses are, of none; But for some other Gifts╌mind what I say, Never compare, each Dapple has his Day, Nor anger him, but kindly use this Play; For should you with him, conceal'd Parts disclose, Lord! how like Ninneys, would look all the Beas.
FINIS.
Do you have questions about this content? Need to report a problem? Please contact us.