University of Virginia Library

Epilogue.

If there were hopes that ancient solid Wit
Might please within our new fantastick Pit;
This Play might then support the Criticks shock,
This Scien grafted upon Shakespears stock;
For join'd with his our Poets part might thrive,
Kept by the vertue of his sap alive.
Though now no more substantial English Playes,
Than good old Hospitality you praise;
The time shall come when true old sence shall rise
In Judgment over all your vanities.
Slight kickshaw Wit o'th' Stage, French meat at Feasts,
Now daily Tantalize the hungry Guests;
While the old English Chine us'd to remain,
And many hungry onsets would sustain.
At these thin Feasts each Morsel's swallow'd down,
And ev'ry thing but the Guests stomach's gone.
At these new fashion'd Feasts you' have but a Tast,
With Meat or Wit you scarce can break a Fast.
This Jantee slightness to the French we owe,
And that makes all slight Wits admire 'em so.
They're of one Level, and with little pains
The Frothy Poet good reception gains;
But to hear English Wit there's use of brains.
Though Sparks to imitate the French think fit
In want of Learning, Affectation, Wit,
And which is most, in Cloaths, wee'l ne'r submit.
Their Ships or Plays o're ours shall ne're advance,
For our Third Rates shall match the First of France,
With English Judges this may bear the Test,
Who will for Shakespear's part forgive the rest.
The Sparks judge but as they hear others say,
They cannot think enough to mind the Play.
They to catch Ladies (which they dress at)
Or 'cause they cannot read or think at home;
Each here deux yeux and am'rous looks imparts,
Levells Crevats and Perriwigs at Hearts;
Yet they themselves more than the Ladies mind,
And but for vanity wou'd have 'em kind.
No passion—
But for their own Dear persons them can move,
Th' admire themselves too much to be in Love.
Nor Wit, nor Beauty, their hard Hearts can strike,
Who only their own sence or persons like.
But to the men of Wit our Poet flies,
To save him from Wits mortal Enemies.
Since for his Friends he has the best of those,
Guarded by them he fears not little Foes.
And with each Mistress we must favour find,
They for Evandra's sake will sure be kind;
At least all those to constant Love inclin'd.