 | Innocence Betray'd : or, the Royal Impostor |  |
120
EPILOGUE.
Altho'
our Scenes in Antient Rome were laid,
In Fact 'twas Egypt where this Farce was play'd,
But that's a Bagatelle; the Moral's all,
By which we must expect to stand or fall.
Hence then we learn the fatal Pow'r of Gold,
And how Self-Interest rul'd the Priests of Old:
How in Times past Religion was a Trade,
And Idol-Worship but a Masquerade:
How by such Arts the Virtuous were misled,
And by a too implicit Faith betray'd.
In Fact 'twas Egypt where this Farce was play'd,
But that's a Bagatelle; the Moral's all,
By which we must expect to stand or fall.
Hence then we learn the fatal Pow'r of Gold,
And how Self-Interest rul'd the Priests of Old:
How in Times past Religion was a Trade,
And Idol-Worship but a Masquerade:
How by such Arts the Virtuous were misled,
And by a too implicit Faith betray'd.
None here, we hope, will censure this Contrivance;
Our Modern Gownsmen scorn such Vile Connivance.
Our Ladies too have now-a-days more Wit,
Than, like our Fair Eudosia, to be bit:
Know how more artfully to play their Game,
And make their Priest secure, not hurt their Fame.
Our Modern Gownsmen scorn such Vile Connivance.
Our Ladies too have now-a-days more Wit,
Than, like our Fair Eudosia, to be bit:
Know how more artfully to play their Game,
And make their Priest secure, not hurt their Fame.
| Innocence Betray'd : or, the Royal Impostor | |