The deceiver deceived a comedy , as 'tis now acted by His Majesty's servants at the theatre in Little-Lincolns-Inn-Fields.

PROLOGUE, spoken by Mr. B••wen.

DEceiv'd Deceiver, and Impostor 〈◊〉〈◊〉! An Audience and the 〈…〉〈…〉! All trick and cheat! Pshaw, 'tis the D••vil ••nd all, I'll warr'nt ye we shall now have Cups and Ball; No, Gallants, we those tricks don't understand; 'Tis t'other House best shows the slight of hand: Hey Iingo, Sirs, what's this! their Come••y? Presto be gone, 'tis now our Farce you see. By neat conveyance you have seen and know it They can transform an Actor to a Poet. With empty Dishes tho••'ll set out a Treat, Whole Seas of Broth, but a small Isle of Meat: With Powderle-Pimp of Dance, Machine and Song, They'll spin••ye out short Nonsense four hours long: With Fountains, Groves, Bombast and airy Fancies Larded with Cynthias, little Loves and Dances: Which put together, makes it hard to say, If Poet, Painter, or Fidler made the Play. But hold, my business lies another way. Not to bespeak your praise by kind perswasions, But to desire the favour of your patience. Our Case is thus: Our Authoress, like true Women, shew'd her Play To some, who, like true Wits, stole't half away. We've Fee'd no Councel yet, tho some advise us T' indite the Plagiaries at Apollo's Sizes? But ah, how they'd out face a Damsel civil: Who've impudence enough to out face the Devil: Besides, shou'd they be cast by prosecution, 'Tis now too late to think of restitution; And faith, I hear, that some do shrewdly opine They Trade with other Muses than the nine. I name no names, but you may easily guess, They that can cheat the Devil can cheat the Flesh. Therefore to you kind Sirs, as to the Laws Of Iustice she submits her s••lf and Cause, For to whom else shou'd a wrong'd Poet sue. There's no appeal to any Court but you.