 | Alzira |  |
EPILOGUE. Spoken by Alzira.
The fifth act pass'd, you'll think it strange to findMy scene of deep distress is yet behind.
Task'd for the epilogue, I fear you'll blame
My want—of what you love, behind that name.
But, for my soul, I can't, from such high scening,
Descend, plumb down at once—to double-meaning.
Judges! protect me—and pronounce it fit,
That solemn sense, shou'd end with serious wit.
When the full heart o'erflows with pleasing pain,
Why should we wish to make th'impression vain?
Why, when two thinking hours have fix'd the play,
Shou'd two light minutes laugh it's use away?
'Twere to proclaim our virtues but a jest,
Should they who ridicule 'em, please us best.
No—rather, at your actor's hands require
Off'rings more apt, and a sublimer fire!
Thoughts that may rivet, not efface, the scene;
Aids to the mind, not flatt'ries for the spleen.
When love, hate, pity—doubt, hope, grief, and rage,
With clashing influence, fire the glowing stage;
When the touch'd heart, relenting into woe,
From others fate, does it's own danger know;
When soft'ning tenderness unlocks the mind,
And the stretch'd bosom takes in all mankind:
Sure, 'tis no time for the bold hand of wit
To snatch back virtues from the plunder'd pit.
Still be it ours, to give you scenes thus strong,
And yours to cherish, and retain 'em long!
Then shall the stage it's general use endear,
And every virtue gather firmness here.
Pow'r be to pardon—wealth to pity mov'd;
And truth be taught the art, to grow belov'd:
Women to charm, with fast and sure effect;
And men to love 'em with a soft respect.
Till all alike, some diff'rent motive rouses;
And tragedy, unfarc'd, invites full houses.
| Alzira | |