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The Epilogve by the Hostesse.

Againe y'are welcome. There's no more to pay,
But your kind liking. Tapster take away
If you deny't, as due for such meane Cheere;
And say your first paid reckoning was too deare,
I begge it as a bounty. If I winne
Your kinde commends, 'twill bring more custom in:
When others fill'd Roomes with neglect disdain ye,
My little House (with thanks) shall entertain ye.
And if such Guests would dayly make it shine,
Our Poet should no more drinke Ale but Wine.
the end.