 | The Fatal Legacy |  |
77
EPILOGUE, Spoken by Mrs. Boheme.
I wonder
, were the Project to be try'd,
If we could lay these Epilogues aside;
Whether if I should sue for such a Favour,
You would not grant it on my good Behaviour.
For I (as one good Turn deserves another)
Could make it up, perhaps—one way or other.
If we could lay these Epilogues aside;
Whether if I should sue for such a Favour,
You would not grant it on my good Behaviour.
For I (as one good Turn deserves another)
Could make it up, perhaps—one way or other.
Well, you have heard a dismal Story told,
Of strange Proceedings thirty Cent'ries old;
Of Woes long since by Grecian Poets sung,
And Horrors acted when the World was young:
But what's all this to us (methinks you say)
And where's the Moral to this killing Play?
Why 'tis to let our Christian Climate see,
There have been Times and Folks much worse than we.
Theirs were unnatural Loves, and dire Amours,
(Tho' Criminal perhaps) more Modish ours.
Their Crimes drew down the Heav'ns vindictive Summons,
Our Failing's greatest Terror's—Doctors-Commons.
And bad enough: Love's Martyrs there are taught,
That Slip of Nature—is no trivial Fault;
The Spoiler there the Virgin's Wrongs repays,
And swinging Vengeance on the Wife that strays!
Thus much for their Intrigues; for State-Affairs,
Our Age has tally'd pretty well with theirs.
You see, they'd Men their Country would undo,
Rebellions, Plotters, and Pretenders too.
Of strange Proceedings thirty Cent'ries old;
78
And Horrors acted when the World was young:
But what's all this to us (methinks you say)
And where's the Moral to this killing Play?
Why 'tis to let our Christian Climate see,
There have been Times and Folks much worse than we.
Theirs were unnatural Loves, and dire Amours,
(Tho' Criminal perhaps) more Modish ours.
Their Crimes drew down the Heav'ns vindictive Summons,
Our Failing's greatest Terror's—Doctors-Commons.
And bad enough: Love's Martyrs there are taught,
That Slip of Nature—is no trivial Fault;
The Spoiler there the Virgin's Wrongs repays,
And swinging Vengeance on the Wife that strays!
79
Our Age has tally'd pretty well with theirs.
You see, they'd Men their Country would undo,
Rebellions, Plotters, and Pretenders too.
All this is for our Epilogue Desert,
Now to my Bus'ness, for the Poet's Part;
Who says, if poor Jocasta's wretched State,
Guilty thro' Ignorance, and curs'd by Fate,
Makes you account her Suff'rings too severe,
Partake her Anguish, and relieve her here.
Now to my Bus'ness, for the Poet's Part;
Who says, if poor Jocasta's wretched State,
Guilty thro' Ignorance, and curs'd by Fate,
Makes you account her Suff'rings too severe,
Partake her Anguish, and relieve her here.
| The Fatal Legacy | |