 | The Amorous Prince, or, the Curious Husband |  |
Epilogue spoken by Cloris.
Ladies
the Prince was kind at last,
But all the danger is not pass'd;
I cannot happy be till you approve,
My hasty condescention to his Love.
'Twas want of Art, not Vertue was my Crime,
And that's, I vow, the Authors fault, not mine:
She might have made the Women pitiless,
But that had harder been to me than this:
She might have made our Lovers constant too,
A work which Heaven it self can scarcely do;
But simple Nature never taught the way,
To hide those passions which she must obey.
Humble Cottages and Cells,
Where Innocence and Virtue dwells;
Then Courts no more secure can be,
From Love and dangerous flattery.
Love in rural triumph reigns,
As much a God amongst the Swains,
As if the Sacrifices paid,
Were wounded hearts by Monarchs made;
And this might well excuse m' offence,
If it be so to Love a Prince.
But Ladies, 'tis your hands alone,
And not his power can raise me to a Throne;
Without that aid I cannot reign,
But will return back to my flocks again.
Guilliam advances.But all the danger is not pass'd;
I cannot happy be till you approve,
My hasty condescention to his Love.
'Twas want of Art, not Vertue was my Crime,
And that's, I vow, the Authors fault, not mine:
She might have made the Women pitiless,
But that had harder been to me than this:
She might have made our Lovers constant too,
A work which Heaven it self can scarcely do;
But simple Nature never taught the way,
To hide those passions which she must obey.
Humble Cottages and Cells,
Where Innocence and Virtue dwells;
Then Courts no more secure can be,
From Love and dangerous flattery.
Love in rural triumph reigns,
As much a God amongst the Swains,
As if the Sacrifices paid,
Were wounded hearts by Monarchs made;
And this might well excuse m' offence,
If it be so to Love a Prince.
But Ladies, 'tis your hands alone,
And not his power can raise me to a Throne;
Without that aid I cannot reign,
But will return back to my flocks again.
Guill.
How go from Court! nay zay not zo,
Hear me but speak before you go:
Whoy zay the Leadies should refuse ye,
The Bleads I'me sure would better use ye—
So long as ye are kind and young,
I know they'l clap ye right or wrong.
FINIS.
| The Amorous Prince, or, the Curious Husband | |