University of Virginia Library

EPILOGUE. Spoken by Mrs. GIFFARD.

Thank my kind Stars, this serious Farce is over,
And I'm no more a whining Tragick Lover:
A Woman's Tears are downright Affectation,
A silly Complaisance to idle Fashion.
For to speak freely now-a-days indeed,
A Widow's Sorrow is a Widow's Weed;
We're grown sincere, and almost scorn to feign
A lying Grief—because the Lye were vain.
Our Pagan Sparks would scruple to believe us,
And our own Wiles of other Dears deceive us:
—Nature and Art will sometimes strive together,
Like Rain and Sunshine, April's wanton Weather.
But when we truly mourn, 'tis in the Fear
Of lying Single a whole tedious Year;
Or if provided with a Spouse again,
The Pleasure might not balance half the Pain.
—The Play-house Motto, as your Scholars say,
Would slily teach us all the World's a Play:
That Lords and Ladies, Statesmen, Merchants, Squires,
Act but what Pleasure, or what Gain requires;
That all alike aim only to deceive,
And what the Knaves impose, the Fools believe.
—A Wife in Tears is Falshood in Disguise,
And Joy dissembles in a Widow's Eyes;
An artful Beauty is the Jilt in Vogue,
And modish Lewdness Folly's Epilogue!
—An Epilogue! Dear me, that's à propos:
With some such Errand I was sent to you;
But if you hope to hear some ticklish Joak,
Our Author's Meaning will be quite mistook,
He aims to please, but ne'er could yet suppose,
That Fame can flourish where Dishonour grows:
More courtly Tastes may overlook Decorum,
And shout when Vice is imag'd plain before 'em.
Our bashful Bard would blush at such Applause,
And to your Virtue only trusts his Cause:
Your Virtue then must combat half the Nation,
And His atone for such Contempt of Fashion.