Arga. I neither now desire, nor will deserve it;
My loss is such as cannot be repaired,
And, to the wretched, life can be no mercy.

Leon. Then be a prisoner always:  Thy ill fate
And pride will have it so:  But since in this I cannot,
Instruct me, generous Amalthea, how
A king may serve you.

Amal. I have all I hope,
And all I now must wish; I see you happy. 
Those hours I have to live, which heaven in pity
Will make but few, I vow to spend with vestals: 
The greatest part in prayers for you; the rest
In mourning my unworthiness. 
Press me not farther to explain myself;
’Twill not become me, and may cause your trouble.

Leon. Too well I understand her secret grief, [Aside. But dare not seem to know it.—­Come, my fairest; [To PALMYRA.  Beyond my crown I have one joy in store, To give that crown to her whom I adore. [Exeunt.

EPILOGUE.

  Thus have my spouse and I informed the nation,
  And led you all the way to reformation;
  Not with dull morals, gravely writ, like those,
  Which men of easy phlegm with care compose,—­
  Your poets, of stiff words and limber sense,
  Born on the confines of indifference;
  But by examples drawn, I dare to say,
  From most of you who hear and see the play. 
  There are more Rhodophils in this theatre,
  More Palamedes, and some few wives, I fear: 
  But yet too far our poet would not run;
  Though ’twas well offered, there was nothing done. 
  He would not quite the women’s frailty bare,
  But stript them to the waist, and left them there: 
  And the men’s faults are less severely shown,
  For he considers that himself is one.—­
  Some stabbing wits, to bloody satire bent,
  Would treat both sexes with less compliment;
  Would lay the scene at home; of husbands tell,
  For wenches, taking up their wives i’ the Mall;
  And a brisk bout, which each of them did want,
  Made by mistake of mistress and gallant. 
  Our modest author thought it was enough
  To cut you off a sample of the stuff: 
  He spared my shame, which you, I’m sure, would not,
  For you were all for driving on the plot: 
  You sighed when I came in to break the sport,
  And set your teeth when each design fell short. 
  To wives and servants all good wishes lend,
  But the poor cuckold seldom finds a friend. 
  Since, therefore, court and town will take no pity,
  I humbly cast myself upon the city.

Footnotes: 
1. He mocks himself of me.] Melantha, like some modern coxcombs,
   uses the idiom as well as the words of the French language.

2. Dangerfield.] A dramatic bully, whose sword and habit became
   proverbial.  “This gentleman, appearing with his mustaccios,
   according to the Turkish manner, Cordubee hat, and strange
   out-of-the-way clothes, just as if one had been dressed up to act
   Captain Dangerfield in the play, &c.” Life of Sir Dudley North.