University of Virginia Library


91

EPILOGUE;

Written by John Courtenay, Esq.
Spoken by Mrs. Siddons.
Though tender sighs breathe in the tragick page,
What lover now complains—but on the stage?
No suitor now attempts his rival's life,
But lets him take that cordial balm—a wife:
And yet, to prove his pure and constant flame,
Still loves his mistress in the wedded dame;
Still courts his friend, and still devoutly bows
At the fair shrine where first he breath'd his vows.
For love, she knows some gratitude is due,
Searches her heart, and finds there's room for two;
And often sees, her coy reluctance o'er,
Good cause to prize her caro sposo more.
Thus modish wives, with sentimental spirit,
May go astray, to prove their husbands' merit,—
Or ope the door, in this commodious age,
Without death's aid, to 'scape from wedlock's cage.—
Abjuring rules, that soon will seem romance,
Love's gayer system we import from France;
Rescind politely our old English duty,
And take off all restraints from wine and beauty;
While lighter manners cheer our native gloom,
As Spanish wool refines the British loom.
Had fashion's law of old such influence shed,
The raptur'd Claudio ne'er had timeless bled:
His bliss with joy Mentevole had seen,
And Julia's favourite Cicisbe' had been.
The assiduous lover, and the husband bland,
Like Brentford's kings, had still walk'd hand in hand;
Together still had shone at Park, and play,
Quaffing the fragrance of the same bouquet.

92

Our varlet poet, with licentious speech,
Thus far our injur'd sex has dar'd impeach.
The female character thus rudely slurr'd,
'Tis fit, at last, that I should have a word.—
First then, without rejoinder or dispute,
This virtuous circle might each charge refute.
That 'tis a nuptial age, I sure may say,
With their own wives when husbands run away.—
But truce with jest. Howe'er the wits may rail,
The cause of truth and virtue must prevail.
Of former times whatever may be told,
We are just as good as e'er they were of old.
Connubial Love here long has fix'd his throne,
And bliss is ours, to foreign climes unknown.
If now and then a tripping fair is found,
On Scandal's wings the buzzing tale flies round:
While blameless thousands, in sequester'd life,
Adorn each state, of parent, friend, and wife;
From private cares ne'er wish abroad to roam,
And bless, each day, the sunshine of their home;
Unnoticed keep their noiseless happy course,
Nor dream of second wedlock or divorce.—
I see the verdict's ours; you smile applause;
So, with your leave, again I'll plead our cause;
New triumphs nightly o'er this railer gain,
And to the last our female rights maintain.
FINIS.