 | The English Princess, or, the death of Richard the III |  |
EPILOGUE.
Richard is dead; and now begins your Reign:
Let not the Tyrant live in you again.
For though one Tyrant be a Nation's Curse,
Yet Commonwealths of Tyrants are much worse:
Their Name is Legion; And a Rump (you know)
In Cruelty all Richards does outgo.
Let not the Tyrant live in you again.
For though one Tyrant be a Nation's Curse,
Yet Commonwealths of Tyrants are much worse:
Their Name is Legion; And a Rump (you know)
In Cruelty all Richards does outgo.
First then by Acts of Grace your Power declare:
Newly install'd, all Princes gracious are;
All lesser Crimes within their Pardon fall;
And Poets Sins are not held Capital.
For your own sake you must some Mercy shew:
Act not the Tyrant's Part, lest we act you.
A formal Critick with his wise Grimace
Will on the Stage appear with no ill grace:
Most of that Trade in this Censorious Age
Have little of the Poët, but his Rage:
Perhaps old Johnson's Gall may fill their Pen;
But where's the Judgment, and the Salt of Ben?
Newly install'd, all Princes gracious are;
All lesser Crimes within their Pardon fall;
And Poets Sins are not held Capital.
For your own sake you must some Mercy shew:
Act not the Tyrant's Part, lest we act you.
A formal Critick with his wise Grimace
Will on the Stage appear with no ill grace:
Most of that Trade in this Censorious Age
Have little of the Poët, but his Rage:
Perhaps old Johnson's Gall may fill their Pen;
But where's the Judgment, and the Salt of Ben?
Yet for himself our Authour does declare
All that sit here, his Lawful Judges are:
For 'tis but just, that in our lawless days,
Since all Men write, all Men should judge of Plays.
All that sit here, his Lawful Judges are:
For 'tis but just, that in our lawless days,
Since all Men write, all Men should judge of Plays.
| The English Princess, or, the death of Richard the III | |