Bertram ; or, The Castle of St. Aldobrand A Tragedy, In Five Acts |
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EPILOGUE, Written by the Hon. George Lamb. |
 | Bertram ; or, The Castle of St. Aldobrand |  |
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EPILOGUE, Written by the Hon. George Lamb.
SPOKEN BY MISS KELLY.
Say, for our Author, whose proud hopes aspire,
To sound the Tragic Bard's neglected lyre;
Say, for our novice, who at once the weight,
Bears of her own and of the Poet's fate,
Oh say, what hope? 'Tis mine with doubt and fear
In this dread hour to ask your judgment here;
Yet, for my sake, before your sentence, stay;
And hear me draw one moral from the play.
To sound the Tragic Bard's neglected lyre;
Say, for our novice, who at once the weight,
Bears of her own and of the Poet's fate,
Oh say, what hope? 'Tis mine with doubt and fear
In this dread hour to ask your judgment here;
Yet, for my sake, before your sentence, stay;
And hear me draw one moral from the play.
Enough for Imogine the tears ye gave her;
I come to say one word in Bertram's favour.—
Bertram! ye cry, a ruthless blood-stain'd rover!!
He was—but also was the truest lover:
And faith! like cases that we daily view,
All might have prosper'd, had the fair been true.
I come to say one word in Bertram's favour.—
Bertram! ye cry, a ruthless blood-stain'd rover!!
He was—but also was the truest lover:
And faith! like cases that we daily view,
All might have prosper'd, had the fair been true.
Man, while he loves, is never quite deprav'd,
And woman's triumph, is a lover sav'd.
The branded wretch, whose callous feelings court
Crime for his glory, and disgrace for sport;
If in his breast love claims the smallest part,
If still he values one fond female heart,
From that one seed, that ling'ring spark, may grow
Pride's noblest flow'r, and virtue's purest glow:
Let but that heart—dear female lead with care
To honour's path, and cheer his progress there,
And proud, though haply sad regret occurs
At all his guilt, think all his virtue hers.
And woman's triumph, is a lover sav'd.
The branded wretch, whose callous feelings court
Crime for his glory, and disgrace for sport;
If in his breast love claims the smallest part,
If still he values one fond female heart,
From that one seed, that ling'ring spark, may grow
Pride's noblest flow'r, and virtue's purest glow:
Let but that heart—dear female lead with care
To honour's path, and cheer his progress there,
And proud, though haply sad regret occurs
At all his guilt, think all his virtue hers.
The fair not always view with fav'ring eyes
The very virtuous or extremely wise;
But, odd it seems, will sometimes rather take
Want with the spendthrift, riot with the rake.
“None, howe'er vitious, find all women froward,
“None—did I say? none, save the sot and coward.”
The reason's plain, the good need nought to warn them,
And we must love the wicked to reform them.
The very virtuous or extremely wise;
But, odd it seems, will sometimes rather take
Want with the spendthrift, riot with the rake.
“None, howe'er vitious, find all women froward,
“None—did I say? none, save the sot and coward.”
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And we must love the wicked to reform them.
“Yet we some wives, some sweethearts, may discover,
“Almost no better than the spouse or lover;
“Nought can to peace the busy female charm,
“And if she can't do good, she must do harm—
“Can chill warm youth, yet fails to warm chill age,
“Makes sages fools, but rarely makes fools sage;
“Some women, like all men, have tastes for evil,
“And, where they should be angels, play the devil.”
“Almost no better than the spouse or lover;
“Nought can to peace the busy female charm,
“And if she can't do good, she must do harm—
“Can chill warm youth, yet fails to warm chill age,
“Makes sages fools, but rarely makes fools sage;
“Some women, like all men, have tastes for evil,
“And, where they should be angels, play the devil.”
Still woman draws new pow'r, new empire, still
From every blessing and from every ill.
Vice on her bosom lulls remorseful care,
And virtue hopes congenial virtue there.
Still she most hides the strength that most subdues,
To gain each end its opposite pursues;
Lures by neglect, advances by delay,
And gains command by swearing to obey.
From every blessing and from every ill.
Vice on her bosom lulls remorseful care,
And virtue hopes congenial virtue there.
Still she most hides the strength that most subdues,
To gain each end its opposite pursues;
Lures by neglect, advances by delay,
And gains command by swearing to obey.
Women have pow'r too in these gallant days,
(So Authors think) of recommending plays.
The prologue proses, ere the play is known,
Rugged and dull as the male speaker's tone;
When the scene's done, and many a fault provokes you,
Women and Epilogue come forth to coax you.
Yet dare I plead, who in this wond'rous age,
Can only speak and walk upon the stage,—
Who know nor carte, nor tierce, nor fencing odds,
Nor by a rope's assistance seek the Gods!
Yes, I will dare; for if ye're pleased to-night,
The genuine drama re-asserts its right.
(So Authors think) of recommending plays.
The prologue proses, ere the play is known,
Rugged and dull as the male speaker's tone;
When the scene's done, and many a fault provokes you,
Women and Epilogue come forth to coax you.
Yet dare I plead, who in this wond'rous age,
Can only speak and walk upon the stage,—
Who know nor carte, nor tierce, nor fencing odds,
Nor by a rope's assistance seek the Gods!
Yes, I will dare; for if ye're pleased to-night,
The genuine drama re-asserts its right.
Bertram in crime elate, of murder proud,
Ruthless to man, to woman's accents bow'd;
Be mov'd like him, your sterner thoughts resign
At woman's voice, and let that voice be mine!
Ruthless to man, to woman's accents bow'd;
Be mov'd like him, your sterner thoughts resign
At woman's voice, and let that voice be mine!
| Bertram ; or, The Castle of St. Aldobrand | |