Henry the Second, King of England With The Death of Rosamond. A Tragedy |
EPILOGUE. Written by Mr. Dryden. Spoke by Mrs. Bracegirdle.
|
 | 1. |
| 2. |
 | 3. |
| 1. |
| 4. |
| 5. |
 | Henry the Second, King of England |  |
EPILOGUE. Written by Mr. Dryden. Spoke by Mrs. Bracegirdle.
Thus you the sad Catastrophe have seen,Occasion'd by a Mistress and a Queen.
Queen Eleanor the Proud was French, they say;
But English Manufacture got the Day:
Jane Clifford was her Name, as Books aver,
Fair Rosamond was but her Nom de Guerre.
Now tell me, Gallants, wou'd you lead your Life
With such a Mistress, or with such a Wife?
If One must be your Choice, which d'ye approve,
The Curtain-Lecture, or the Curtain-Love?
Wou'd ye be Godly with perpetual Strife,
Still drudging on with homely Joan your Wife;
Or take your Pleasure in a wicked way,
Like honest Whoring Harry in the Play?
I guess your minds: The Mistress wou'd be taking,
And nauseous Matrimony sent a packing.
The Devil's in ye all; Mankind's a Rogue,
You love the Bride, but you detest the Clog:
After a Year, poor Spouse is left i'th' lurch;
And you, like Haynes, return to Mother-Church.
Or, if the name of Church comes cross your mind,
Chappels of Ease behind our Scenes you find:
The Play-house is a kind of Market-place;
One chaffers for a Voice, another for a Face.
Nay, some of you, I dare not say how many,
Would buy of me a Pen'worth for your Peny.
Ev'n this poor Face (which with my Fan I hide)
Would make a shift my Portion to provide,
With some small Perquisites I have beside.
Though for your Love, perhaps, I should not care,
I could not hate a Man that bids me fair.
What might ensue, 'tis hard for me to tell;
But I was drench'd to day for loving well,
And fear the Poyson that would make me swell.
| Henry the Second, King of England | |