 | The Bashful Lover |  |
87
EPILOGUE.
Pray you Gentlemen keep your seats; something I wouldDeliver to gain favour, if I could,
To us, and the still doubtful Author. He,
When I desir'd an Epilogue, answer'd me,
'Twas to no purpose: He must stand his fate,
Since all intreaties now would come too late;
You being long since resolv'd what you would say
Of him, or us, as ye rise, or of the Play.
A strange old Fellow! yet this sullen mood
Would quickly leave him, might it be understood
You part not hence displeas'd. I am design'd
To give him certain notice: If you find
Things worth your liking, shew it. Hope and Fear,
Though different passions, have the self-same ear.
| The Bashful Lover | |