 | Double Falshood ; or, The Distrest Lovers |  |
EPILOGUE. Written by a Friend. Spoken by Mrs. OLDFIELD.
Well
, Heaven defend us from these ancient Plays,
These Moral Bards of good Queen Bess's Days!
They write from Virtue's Laws, and think no further;
But draw a Rape as dreadful as a Murther.
You modern Wits, more deeply vers'd in Nature,
Can tip the wink, to tell us, you know better;
As who shou'd say—“'Tis no such killing Matter.—
“We've heard old Stories told, and yet ne'er wonder'd,
“Of many a Prude, that has endur'd a Hundred:
“And Violante grieves, or we're mistaken,
“Not, because ravisht; but because—forsaken.—
These Moral Bards of good Queen Bess's Days!
They write from Virtue's Laws, and think no further;
But draw a Rape as dreadful as a Murther.
You modern Wits, more deeply vers'd in Nature,
Can tip the wink, to tell us, you know better;
As who shou'd say—“'Tis no such killing Matter.—
“We've heard old Stories told, and yet ne'er wonder'd,
“Of many a Prude, that has endur'd a Hundred:
“And Violante grieves, or we're mistaken,
“Not, because ravisht; but because—forsaken.—
Had this been written to the modern Stage,
Her Manners had been copy'd from the Age.
Then, tho' she had been once a little wrong,
She still had had the Grace to've held her Tongue;
And after all, with downcast Looks, been led
Like any Virgin to the Bridal Bed.
There, if the good Man question'd her Mis-doing,
She'd stop him short—“Pray, who made you so knowing?
“What, doubt my Virtue!—What's your base Intention?
“Sir, that's a Point above your Comprehension.—
Her Manners had been copy'd from the Age.
Then, tho' she had been once a little wrong,
She still had had the Grace to've held her Tongue;
And after all, with downcast Looks, been led
Like any Virgin to the Bridal Bed.
There, if the good Man question'd her Mis-doing,
She'd stop him short—“Pray, who made you so knowing?
“What, doubt my Virtue!—What's your base Intention?
“Sir, that's a Point above your Comprehension.—
Well, Heav'n be prais'd, the Virtue of our Times
Secures us from our Gothick Grandsires Crimes.
Rapes, Magick, new Opinions, which before
Have fill'd our Chronicles, are now no more:
And this reforming Age may justly boast,
That dreadful Sin Polygamy is lost.
So far from multiplying Wives, 'tis known
Our Husbands find, they've Work enough with one.—
Then, as for Rapes, those dangerous days are past;
Our Dapper Sparks are seldom in such haste.
Secures us from our Gothick Grandsires Crimes.
Rapes, Magick, new Opinions, which before
Have fill'd our Chronicles, are now no more:
And this reforming Age may justly boast,
That dreadful Sin Polygamy is lost.
So far from multiplying Wives, 'tis known
Our Husbands find, they've Work enough with one.—
Then, as for Rapes, those dangerous days are past;
Our Dapper Sparks are seldom in such haste.
In Shakespeare's Age the English Youth inspir'd,
Lov'd, as they fought, by him and Beauty fir'd.
'Tis yours to crown the Bard, whose Magick Strain
Cou'd charm the Heroes of that glorious Reign,
Which humbled to the Dust the Pride of Spain.
Lov'd, as they fought, by him and Beauty fir'd.
'Tis yours to crown the Bard, whose Magick Strain
Cou'd charm the Heroes of that glorious Reign,
Which humbled to the Dust the Pride of Spain.
| Double Falshood ; or, The Distrest Lovers | |