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EPILOGUE.
SPOKEN BY MRS. POPE.
ESCAP'D from Turkey, and from prison free,
Yet still a SLAVE you shall behold in me;
An English slave—slave to your ev'ry pleasure,
Seeking your plaudits as her richest treasure.
Whilst thus you feast with cheering praise my ear,
For our soft poet I confess some fear.
Perhaps you'll say,—"Two marriages for love!
"Thus foolish female pens for ever rove;
"But give us, Madam, give us, real life,
"Who goes to Turkey pray, to fetch a wife?"
Critic! a few months past I wou'd allow
Your comment just, but not, Sir Surly, now!
For now we know A PRINCE can cross the seas
T' obtain a wife, a nation's hearts to please.
"The age of chivalry" again returns,
And love, with all its ancient splendor burns;
Yes—
Tell the rapt Orator whose magic pen
So late chastised the new found rights of men—
Who fear'd that honor, courage, love were lost,
And Europe's glories in the whirlwind tost;