University of Virginia Library

EPILOGUE.

What e'r the Poet has deserv'd from you,
Would you the Actors for his faults undo,
The Painter, Dancer, and Musician too?
For you those Men of skill have done their best:
But we deserve much more then all the rest.
We have stak'd all we have to treat you here,
And therefore, Sirs, you should not be severe.
We in one Vessel have adventur'd all;
The loss, should we be Shipwrack'd, were not small.
But if it be decreed that we must fall,
We fall with honour: Gallants, you can tell,
No Foreign Stage can ours in Pomp excel,
And here none e'r shall treat you half so well.
Poor Players have this day that Splendor shown,
Which yet but by Great Monarchs has been done.
Whilst our rich Neighbours mock us for't, we know
Already th'utmost they intend to do.
Yet all the fame you give 'em we allow,
To their best Plays, and their best Actors too.
But, Sirs ---
Good Plays from Censure here you'll not exempt,
Yet can like Farces, there below contempt
Drolls which so course, so dull, so bawdy are,
The dirty Rout would damn 'em in a Fair:
Yet Gentlemen such stuff will daily see;
Nay, Ladies too will in the Boxes be:
What is become of former modesty?
Yet ---
Best Judges will our Ornaments allow,
Though they the wrong side of the Arras show.
But Oh a long farewel to all this sort
Of Plays, which this vast Town can not support.
If you could be content th'expence to bear,
We would improve and treat you better ev'ry year.