But fince, like friends to wit, thus throng'd you meet,
Go on, and make the generous work compleat:
Be true to merit, and still own his caufe,
Find fomething for him more than bare applause.
In just remembrance of your pleasures past,
Be kind, and give him a discharge at last ;
In peace and eafe life's remnant let him wear,
And hang his confecrated Buskin * there.
EPILOGUE TO THE CRUEL GIFT.
AS IT WAS ACTED AT THE THEATRE-ROYAL IN
ELL-'twas a narrow 'fcape my Lover made,
That Cup and Message-I was fore afraid-
Was that a Prefent for a new-made Widow,
All in her dismal dumps, like doleful Dido?
When one peep'd in—and hop'd for fomething good,
There was-Oh! Gad! a nafty Heart and Blood †,
Pointing to the top of the stage.
†This tragedy was founded upon the story of Segifmonda and Guifcardo, one of Boccace's novels; wherein the Heart of the Lover is fent by the Father to his Daughter, as a prefent.
If the old man had fhewn himself a father,
His Bowl fhould have inclos'd a Cordial rather,
Something to chear me up amidst my trance,
L'Eau de Bardè-or comfortable Nants * !
He thought he paid it off with being smart,
And, to be witty, cry'd, he'd send the heart.
I could have told his gravity, moreover
Were I our fex's feciets to discover,
'Tis what we never look'd for in a Lover.
Let but the Bridegroom prudently provide
All other Matters fitting for a Bride,
So he make good the Jewels and the Jointure,
To mifs the Heart, does feldom disappoint her.
Faith, for the fashion Hearts of late are made in,
They are the vileft Baubles we can trade in.
Where are the tough brave Britons to be found,
With Hearts of Oak, fo much of old renown'd?
How many worthy gentlemen of late
Swore to be true to Mother-Church and State;
When their falfe Hearts were fecretly maintaining
Yon trim king Pepin, at Avignon reigning?
Shame on the canting crew of Soul-Infurers,
The Tyburn Tribe of speech-making Non-jurors; Who, in new-fangled Terms, old Truths explaining, Teach honeft Englishmen, damn'd Double-Meaning. Ch! would you lost integrity restore
And boast that Faith your plain fore-fathers bore;
i. e. Citron-Water and good Brandy.
What furer pattern can you hope to find,
Than that dear pledge * your Monarch left behind !
See how his Looks his honest Heart explain,
And fpeak the bleffings of his future Reign!
In his each feature, truth and candour trace,
And read Plain-dealing written in his Face.
PROLOGUE TO THE NON-JUROR. A COMEDY. BY MR. CIBBER.
AS IT WAS ACTED AT THE THEATRE-ROYAL IN DRURY-LANE, 1718.
SPOKEN BY MR. WILKS.
TO-night, ye Whigs and Tories, both be fafe,
Nor hope at one another's coft to laugh.
We mean to foufe old Satan and the Pope;
They've no relations here, nor friends, we hope.
A tool of theirs fupplies the comic stage
With juft materials for fatiric rage:
Nor think our colours may too ftrongly paint
The ftiff Non-Juring Separation Saint.
Good-breeding ne'er commands us to be civil
To those who give the nation to the devil;
Who at our fureft, best foundation strike,
And hate our monarch and our church alike;
Our church-which, aw'd with reverential fear,
Scarcely the Mufe prefumes to mention here.
D 3
*The prince of Wales then prefent.
Long may the these her worst of foes defy,
And lift her mitred head triumphant to the sky :
While theirs-----but fatire filently difdains
To name, what lives not, but in madmen's brains.
Like bawds, each lurking pastor seeks the dark,
And fears the juftice's enquiring clerk.
In close back-rooms his routed flocks he rallies,
And reigns the patriarch of blind lanes and allies :
There fafe, he lets his thundering cenfures fly,
Unchriftens, damns us, gives our laws the lye,
And excommunicates three ftories high.
Why, fince a land of liberty they hate,
Still will they linger in this free-born state?
Here, every hour, fresh, hateful, objects rise,
Peace and profperity afflict their eyes ;
With anguifh, prince and people they survey,
Their juft obedience, and his righteous sway.
Ship off, ye flaves, and feek fome paffive land,
Where tyrants after your own hearts command.
To your Tranfalpine mafter's rule resort,
And fill an empty abdicated court :
Turn your poffeffions here to ready rhino,
And buy ye lands and lordships at Urbino..
THE LORD GRIFFIN TO THE EARL OF
O not, moft fragrant earl, disclaim
Thy bright, thy reputable flame,
To Bracegirdle the brown;
But publicly espouse the dame,
And fay, G- d-- the town.
Full many heroes, fierce and keen,
With drabs have deeply fmitten been,
Although right good commanders;
Some who with you have Hounslow feen,
And fome who've been in Flanders.
Did not base Greber's * Pegg inflame
The fober earl of Nottingham,
Of fober fire defcended?
That, carelefs of his foul and fame,
To play-houfes he nightly came,
And left church undefended.
The monarch who of France is hight,
Who rules the roaft with matchlefs might,
Since William went to heaven;
Loves Maintenon, his lady bright,
Who was but Scarron's leaving.
*Signora Francefco Marguareta de l'Epine,
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