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EPILOGUE. Spoken by Mrs. ABINGTON.
In
times of old, by this old play we see,
Our Ancestors, poor souls, tho' brave and free,
Believ'd in spirits and astrology!
'Twas by the stars they prosper'd, or miscarried;
Thro' them grew rich, or poor; were hang'd, or married;
And if their wives were naught, then they were born
Under the Ram, or Bull, or Capricorn!
When our great-grand-mamas had made a slip,
(Their shoes with higher heels would often trip)
The rose and lily left their cheeks—'twas duty
To curse their Planets, and destroy their beauty:
Such ign'rance, with faith in Stars, prevails;
Our faces never change, they tell no tales;
Or should a husband, rather unpolite,
Lock up our persons, and our roses blight;
When once set free again, there's nothing in it,
We can be ros'd and lily'd in a minute:
Fly all abroad, be taken into favour,
And be as fresh and frolicksome as ever!
To heav'nly bodies we have no relation,
The Star that rules us is our inclination!
Govern'd by that, our earthly bodies move,
Quite unconnected with the things above:
Our Ancestors, poor souls, tho' brave and free,
Believ'd in spirits and astrology!
'Twas by the stars they prosper'd, or miscarried;
Thro' them grew rich, or poor; were hang'd, or married;
And if their wives were naught, then they were born
Under the Ram, or Bull, or Capricorn!
When our great-grand-mamas had made a slip,
(Their shoes with higher heels would often trip)
The rose and lily left their cheeks—'twas duty
To curse their Planets, and destroy their beauty:
Such ign'rance, with faith in Stars, prevails;
Our faces never change, they tell no tales;
Or should a husband, rather unpolite,
Lock up our persons, and our roses blight;
When once set free again, there's nothing in it,
We can be ros'd and lily'd in a minute:
Fly all abroad, be taken into favour,
And be as fresh and frolicksome as ever!
To heav'nly bodies we have no relation,
The Star that rules us is our inclination!
Govern'd by that, our earthly bodies move,
Quite unconnected with the things above:
Two young ones love—a chaise to Scotland carries 'em,
The Stars lend light, but inclination marries 'em.
When passion cools, and flame is turn'd to smother,
They curse no Stars—but Scotland, and each other!
To walk i'th'dark no belles now make a fuss,
No specters or hobgobblins frighten us!
No, says Old Crab, of Fops the last editions,
Pray, Madam, what are they but apparitions!
So slim, so pale, so dress'd from foot to head,
Half girl, half boy, half living, and half dead,
They are not flesh and blood, but walking gingerbread!
More flimsy beings kept alive by art,
“They come like shadows, and they'll so depart.”
O fye, for shame! said I—he turn'd about,
And turn'd US topsy turvey, inside out:
Rail'd at our sex, then curs'd the Stars, and swore—
But you're alarm'd I see, I'll say no more:
Old doting fools from Stars derive all evil,
Nor search their hearts to find the little devil:
Ladies take council, crush the mischief there;
Lay but that Spirit, you'll be wise—as fair.
The Stars lend light, but inclination marries 'em.
When passion cools, and flame is turn'd to smother,
They curse no Stars—but Scotland, and each other!
To walk i'th'dark no belles now make a fuss,
No specters or hobgobblins frighten us!
No, says Old Crab, of Fops the last editions,
Pray, Madam, what are they but apparitions!
Half girl, half boy, half living, and half dead,
They are not flesh and blood, but walking gingerbread!
More flimsy beings kept alive by art,
“They come like shadows, and they'll so depart.”
O fye, for shame! said I—he turn'd about,
And turn'd US topsy turvey, inside out:
Rail'd at our sex, then curs'd the Stars, and swore—
But you're alarm'd I see, I'll say no more:
Old doting fools from Stars derive all evil,
Nor search their hearts to find the little devil:
Ladies take council, crush the mischief there;
Lay but that Spirit, you'll be wise—as fair.
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