For thou hast been my son-Oh, gracious Heav'n! Thou that hast endless blessings still in store For virtue, and for filial piety, Let grief, disgrace, and want be far away; But multiply thy mercies on his head. Let honour, greatness, goodness, still be with him, And peace in all his ways Alt. Take, take it all: To thee, Horatio, I resign the gift, While I pursue my father, and my love, [He dies. Hor. The storm of grief bears hard upon his youth, Death, or some worse misfortune, soon divide, [Exeunt omnes. EPILOGUE. Υου see the tripping dame could find no favour; There's dreadful dealings with eloping wives: Well may the cuckold-making tribe find grace, For carnivals in town to keep a tedious Lent; |