Stout Scaramoucha with rush-lance rode in,
  And ran a tilt at centaur Arlequin. 
  For love you heard how amorous asses bray’d,
  And cats in gutters gave their serenade. 
  Nature was out of countenance, and each day
  Some new-born monster shown you for a play. 20
  But when all fail’d, to strike the stage quite dumb,
  Those wicked engines call’d machines are come. 
  Thunder and lightning now for wit are play’d,
  And shortly scenes in Lapland will be laid: 
  Art magic is for poetry profess’d;
  And cats and dogs, and each obscener beast,
  To which Egyptian dotards once did bow,
  Upon our English stage are worshipp’d now. 
  Witchcraft reigns there, and raises to renown
  Macbeth and Simon Magus of the town, 30
  Fletcher’s despised, your Jonson’s out of fashion,
  And wit the only drug in all the nation. 
  In this low ebb our wares to you are shown;
  By you those staple authors’ worth is known;
  For wit’s a manufacture of your own. 
  When you, who only can, their scenes have praised,
  We’ll boldly back, and say, their price is raised.

* * * * *

XXXVI.

EPILOGUE,

SPOKEN AT OXFORD, BY MRS MARSHALL.

  Oft has our poet wish’d, this happy seat
  Might prove his fading Muse’s last retreat: 
  I wonder’d at his wish, but now I find
  He sought for quiet, and content of mind;
  Which noiseful towns, and courts can never know,
  And only in the shades like laurels grow. 
  Youth, ere it sees the world, here studies rest,
  And age returning thence concludes it best. 
  What wonder if we court that happiness
  Yearly to share, which hourly you possess; 10
  Teaching even you, while the vex’d world we show,
  Your peace to value more, and better know? 
  ’Tis all we can return for favours past,
  Whose holy memory shall ever last;
  For patronage from him whose care presides
  O’er every noble art, and every science guides: 
  Bathurst,[64] a name the learn’d with reverence know,
  And scarcely more to his own Virgil owe;
  Whose age enjoys but what his youth deserved,
  To rule those Muses whom before he served. 20
  His learning, and untainted manners too,
  We find, Athenians, are derived to you: 
  Such ancient hospitality there rests
  In yours, as dwelt in the first Grecian breasts,
  Whose kindness was religion to their guests. 
  Such modesty did to our sex appear,
  As, had there been no laws, we need not fear,
  Since each of you was our protector here. 
  Converse so chaste, and so strict virtue shown,
  As might Apollo with the Muses own. 30
  Till our return, we must despair to find
  Judges so just, so knowing, and so kind.