University of Virginia Library

Epilogue.

Within.
Mr. Pollard, wher's Mr. Pollard for the Epilogue?

He is thrust upon the Stage, and falls.
I am coming to you Gentlemen, the Poet
Has help'd me thus far on my way, but I'l
Be even with him; the Play is a Tragedy,
The first that ever he compos'd for us,
Wherein he thinks he has done pretily,
Enter Servant.
And I am sensible; I prethee look
Is nothing out of joynt? has he broke nothing?

Serv.
No Sir, I hope.

Epi.
Yes, he has broke his Epilogue all to peeces,
Canst thou put it together agen?

Ser.
Not I Sir.

Epi.
Nor I, prethee be gone, hum? Mr. Poet,
I have a teeming mind to be reveng'd.
You may assist, and not be seen in't now.
If you please Gentlemen, for I do know
He listens to the issue of his cause,
But blister not your hands in his applause,
Your private smile, your nod, or hum, to tell
My fellows, that you like the business well;
And when without a clap you go away,
I'l drink a small-bear health to his second day;
And break his heart, or make him swear, and rage
He'l write no more for the unhappy Stage;
But that's too much, so we should lose; faith shew it;
And if you like his play, 'ts as well, he knew it.