 | Wit in A Constable |  |
EPILOGUE.
Are you resolv'd yet Gentlemen? I amIn earnest haste of Towne-affaires, and came
To know your minds: how's that? there's one I spye
That will dislike, to th'Counter instantly
With him; intreate Sir, shall not prevaile,
Nor shall you thinke to come out upon baile.
For in this case (believe it) I'de not spare
(Though the sword were borne before him) my Lord Major;
Nor should the Court of Aldermen reprieve
For such a fact, my good friend Master Shreive.
If so severe to them then, who by vow,
Are my owne bretheren? what will become of you?
I have consider'd; and will now commit
To your free votes the Censures of my wit.
For though their dulnesse (whom I've threatned) may
Dislike (you 'ave wit) and will allow the play.
| Wit in A Constable | |