University of Virginia Library

THE EPILOGUE, Spoken by Mr. Haines.

Trapolin, suppos'd a Duke, This Action shows
Strange matters may depend on meer suppose.
One may suppose Masks chast, lov'd Nonsense Witty,
No Flatterers at Court, no Whig i'th' City—
I am my self by one i'th' World thought Pretty.
[Pulling off his Periwig.
Whereas you see no Lillies grow nor Roses,
So Masks for Beauty pass, that want their Noses.
The Reverend Citizen, Sixty and above,
That by poor inch of Candle buys his Love,
Supposes that his Son and Heir he Got,
But ask his Wife, and she supposes not.
Mean time the Sot, whil'st he's a Cuckold made,
Supposes she's at Church praying for Trade.
The Country Squire newly come to Town,
By Parents doom'd to Lawyers daggl'd Gown,
Supposes some Bright Angel he has gotten
In our Lewd Gallery, till proving Rotten,
His Study soon he leaves for Sweating Tubs,
And Cook and Littleton, for honest Hobs.
Nor had Dull Cit sent Spouse to Drink the Waters,
And found helping to her Sons and Daughters,
Had he suppos'd when so the Belly swells,
There must be something in't besides the Wells.
There's no Man here had Married I'me afraid,
Had he not first suppos'd his Wife a Maid,
Thus, 'tis Opinion must our Peace secure,
For no Experiment can do't I'me sure.
In Paths of Love no Foot steps e're were Trac'd,
All we can do is to suppose her Chast;
For Women are of that deep subtile kind,
The more we dive to Know, the less we find.
Ah Ladies! what strange Fate still Rules us Men?
For whil'st we Wisely would escape the Gin,
A kind suppose still draws the Woodcocks in:
In all Affairs 'tis so, the Lawyers Baul,
And with damn'd Noise and Nonsense fill the Hall,
Supposing after Seven Years being a Drudge,
'Twill be his Fortune to be made a Judge.
The Parson too that Prays against ill Weathers,
That thumps the Cushion till he leaves no Feathers,
Wou'd let his Flock I fear grow very Lean,
Without suppose at least of being a Dean.
All things are helpt out by suppose, but Wit;
But shall we by That suppose to get.
Unless a kind suppose your Minds possess,
For on that Charm depends our Play's Success.
Then tho you like it not, Sirs, don't Disclose it,
But tho you are not satisfi'd, suppose it.