After our AEsop’s fable shown to-day,
I come to give the moral of the play. 
Feigned Zeal, you saw, set out the speedier pace;
But the last heat, Plain Dealing won the race: 
Plain Dealing for a jewel has been known;
But ne’er till now the jewel of a crown. 
When heaven made man, to show the work divine,
Truth was his image, stamped upon the coin: 
And when a king is to a God refined,
On all he says and does he stamps his mind: 
This proves a soul without alloy, and pure;
Kings, like their gold, should every touch endure. 
To dare in fields is valour; but how few
Dare be so throughly valiant,—­to be true! 
The name of great, let other kings affect: 
He’s great indeed, the prince that is direct. 
His subjects know him now, and trust him more
Than all their kings, and all their laws before. 
What safety could their public acts afford? 
Those he can break; but cannot break his word. 
So great a trust to him alone was due;
Well have they trusted whom so well they knew. 
The saint, who walked on waves, securely trod,
While he believed the beck’ning of his God;
But when his faith no longer bore him out,
Began to sink, as he began to doubt. 
Let us our native character maintain;
’Tis of our growth, to be sincerely plain. 
To excel in truth we loyally may strive,
Set privilege against prerogative: 
He plights his faith, and we believe him just;
His honour is to promise, ours to trust. 
Thus Britain’s basis on a word is laid,
As by a word the world itself was made[1].

Footnote: 
1.  From this Epilogue we learn, what is confirmed by many proofs
   elsewhere, that the attribute for which James desired to be
   distinguished and praised, was that of openness of purpose, and
   stern undeviating inflexibility of conduct.  He scorned to disguise
   his designs, either upon the religion or the constitution of his
   country.  He forgot that it was only the temporising concessions of
   his brother which secured his way to the throne, when his
   exclusion, or a civil war, seemed the only alternatives.  His
   brother was the reed, which bent before the whirlwind, and
   recovered its erect posture when it had passed away; and James, the
   inflexible oak, which the first tempest rooted up for ever.

* * * * *

DON SEBASTIAN.

A

TRAGEDY.

_—­Nec tarda senectus
Debilitat vires animi, mutatque vigorem._
VIRG.

DON SEBASTIAN.