The Poetical Works of the Right Hon. George Granville, Lord Lansdowne/100
EPILOGUE
TO THE JEW OF VENICE.
Each in his turn, the poet[1] and the prieſt,[2]
Have view’d the ſtage, but like falſe prophets gueſt.
The man of zeal, in his religious rage,
Would ſilence poets, and reduce the ſtage.
The poet, raſhly to get clear, retorts5
On kings the ſcandal, and beſpatters courts.
Both err; for, without mincing, to be plain,
The guilt ’s your own of ev’ry odious ſcene.
The preſent time ſtill gives the ſtage its mode;
The vices that you practiſe we explode:10
We hold the glaſs, and but reflect your ſhame,
Like Spartans, by expoſing to reclaim.
The ſcribbler, pinch’d with hunger, writes to dine,
And to your genius muſt conform his line;
Not lewd by choice, but merely to ſubmit.15
Would you encourage ſenſe, ſenſe would be writ.
Good plays we try, which, aster the firſt day,
Unſeen we act, and to bare benches play.
Plain ſenſe, which pleas’d your ſires an age ago,
Is loſt without the garniture of ſhow.20
At vaſt expenſe we labour to our ruin,
And court your favour with our own undoing.
A war of profit mitigates the evil,
But to be tax’d—and beaten—is the devil.
How was the ſcene forlorn, and how deſpis’d,25
When Timon without muſic moraliz’d!
Shakeſpeare’s ſublime in vain entie’d the throng
Without the aid of Purcell’s Syren ſong.
In the ſame antique loom theſe ſcenes were wrought,
Embelliſh’d with good morals and juſt thought;30
True Nature in her nobleſt light you ſee,
Ere yet debauch’d by modern gallantry
To trifling jeſts and fulſome ribaldry:
What ruſt remains upon the ſhining maſs,
Antiquity muſt privilege to paſs.35
’T is Shakeſpeare’s play, and is theſe ſcenes miſcarry,
Let Gormon[3] take the ſtage—or Lady Mary.[4]37