A Masque of the Metamorphos'd Gypsies | ||
80
The Epilogue.
At Burley, Bever, and now last at Windsor,Which shewes we are Gipsies of no common kinde Sir:
You have beheld (and with delight) their change,
And how they came transform'd, may thinke it strange.
It being a thing not touch't at by our Poet,
Good Ben slept there, or else forgot to shew it;
But least it prove like wonder to the sight,
To see a Gipsie, as an Æthiope, white.
Know, that what dy'd our faces, was an oyntment
Made, and layd on by Mr. Woolfes appointment,
The Court Licanthropos; yet without spells,
By a meere Barber, and no Magicke ells:
It was fetcht off with water, and a ball,
And to our transformation, this is all,
Save what the Master Fashioner calls his,
For to Gipsies Metamorphosis;
Who doth disguise his habit, and his face,
And takes on a false person by his place:
The power of Poetrie can never faile her,
Assisted by a Barber, and a Taylor.
FINIS.
A Masque of the Metamorphos'd Gypsies | ||