They might have praise, confined to farce alone;
Full well they grin, they should not try to groan;
But then our servants’ and our seamen’s wives
Love all that rant and rapture as their lives;
He who ’Squire Richard’s part could well sustain,
Finds as King Richard he must roar amain -
“My horse! my horse!” - Lo! now to their abodes,
Come lords and lovers, empresses and gods.
The master-mover of these scenes has made
No trifling gain in this adventurous trade;