 | Don Carlos Prince of Spain |  |
67
THE EPILOGUE.
Spoken by a Girle.Now what d'ye think my Message hither means?
Yonder's the Poet sick behind the Scenes:
He told me there was pity in my face,
And therefore sent me here to make his peace.
Let me for once perswade ye to be kind;
For he has promis'd me to stand my Friend.
And if this time I can your kindness move,
He'l write for me, he swears by all above,
When I am bigg enough to be in love.
Now won't you be good natur'd, ye fine men?
Indeed I'le grow as fast as e're I can,
And try if to his promise he'l be true:
Think on't, when that time comes; you do not know,
But I may grow in love with some of you:
Or at the worst I'm certain I shall see
Amongst you those who'l swear they're so with me.
But now, if by my Suit you'l not be won,
You know what your unkindness oft has done;
I'le e'n forsake the Play-House, and turn Nun.
THE END.
| Don Carlos Prince of Spain | |