Fontainville Forest A Play, In Five Acts |
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EPILOGUE TO FONTAINVILLE FOREST. BY THE AUTHOR OF THE PLAY, FOR MRS. POPE. |
 | Fontainville Forest |  |
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EPILOGUE TO FONTAINVILLE FOREST. BY THE AUTHOR OF THE PLAY, FOR MRS. POPE.
Well, heav'n be prais'd, I have escap'd at last,
And all my woman's doubts and fears are past.
Before this awful crisis of our play,
Our vent'rous bard has often heard me say—
Think you, our friends, one modern ghost will see,
Unless, indeed, of Hamlet's pedigree:
Know you not, Shakspeare's petrifying pow'r
Commands alone the horror-giving hour?
And all my woman's doubts and fears are past.
Before this awful crisis of our play,
Our vent'rous bard has often heard me say—
Think you, our friends, one modern ghost will see,
Unless, indeed, of Hamlet's pedigree:
Know you not, Shakspeare's petrifying pow'r
Commands alone the horror-giving hour?
“Madam, said he, with mingled awe and love,
“I think of Him, the brightest spirit above,
“Who triumphs over time and fickle forms,
“The changes of caprice, and passion's storms;
“Whose mighty muse the subject world must bind,
“While sense and nature charm the willing mind.”
“I think of Him, the brightest spirit above,
“Who triumphs over time and fickle forms,
“The changes of caprice, and passion's storms;
“Whose mighty muse the subject world must bind,
“While sense and nature charm the willing mind.”
But Sir, I cry'd, your eulogy apart,
Which flows from mine, indeed from every heart.
You mean to sanction then your own pale sprite,
By his “that did usurp this time of night:”
“I do, he answer'd, and I beg you'll spare
“My injur'd phantom ev'ry red-sea pray'r:
“Why should your terror lay my proudest boast,
“Madam I die, if I give up the ghost.”
The jest which bursted from his motley mind,
Anxious as it must be, has made me kind;
I come his advocate, if there be need,
And give him absolution for the deed.
You'll not deny my spiritual power,
But let me rule at least one little hour!
Be your's the sceptre every future day,
And mine the transport humbly to obey.
Which flows from mine, indeed from every heart.
You mean to sanction then your own pale sprite,
By his “that did usurp this time of night:”
“I do, he answer'd, and I beg you'll spare
“My injur'd phantom ev'ry red-sea pray'r:
“Why should your terror lay my proudest boast,
“Madam I die, if I give up the ghost.”
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Anxious as it must be, has made me kind;
I come his advocate, if there be need,
And give him absolution for the deed.
You'll not deny my spiritual power,
But let me rule at least one little hour!
Be your's the sceptre every future day,
And mine the transport humbly to obey.
| Fontainville Forest | |