Chapter XXVI: Epilogue: TO

MITHRIDATES, KING OF PONTUS.

BY

MR N. LEE, 1678.

_This, as appears from the Prologue preserved in the Luttrell
collection, was the first play acted in the season_, 1698-9. _It has,
like all Lee's productions, no small share of bombast, with some
strikingly beautiful passages._

You've seen a pair of faithful lovers die; }
And much you care; for most of you will cry, }
'Twas a just judgment on their constancy. }
For, heaven be thanked, we live in such an age,
When no man dies for love, but on the stage:
And e'en those martyrs are but rare in plays;
A cursed sign how much true faith decays.
Love is no more a violent desire;
'Tis a mere metaphor, a painted fire.
In all our sex, the name examined well,
'Tis pride to gain, and vanity to tell.
In woman, 'tis of subtle interest made;
Curse on the punk, that made it first a trade!
She first did wit's prerogative remove,
And made a fool presume to prate of love.
Let honour and preferment go for gold,
But glorious beauty is not to be sold;
Or, if it be, 'tis at a rate so high,
That nothing but adoring it should buy.
Yet the rich cullies may their boasting spare;
They purchase but sophisticated ware.
'Tis prodigality that buys deceit,
Where both the giver and the taker cheat.
Men but refine on the old half-crown way;
And women fight, like Swissers, for their pay.