Mithridates, King of Pontus a tragedy : acted at the Theatre Royal by Their Majestie's servants / written by Nat. Lee.

Epilogue, by Mr. Dryden.

YO'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, Heav'n be thank'd, we live in such an Age When no man dies for Love, but on the Stage: And ev'n those Martyrs are but rare in Plays; A cursed sign how much true Faith decays. Love is no more a violent desire; 'Tis a meer Metaphor, a painted Fire. In all our Sex, the name examin'd well, Is Pride, to gain; and Vanity to tell: In Woman, 'tis of subtil int'rest made, Curse on the Punk that made it first a Trade! She first did Wits 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 shou'd 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 Swizzers, for their Pay.