University of Virginia Library

Just as the last Words were spoke Mr Lacy enter'd and spoke the EPILOGUE.

By your leave Gentlemen.—
After a sad and dismal Tragedy
I do suppose that few expected me;
But when I saw things grow so Tragical,
I thought the Poet wou'd have kill'd us all;
And craftily perhaps, so to prevent
An Epilogue when all his Wit was spent:
Besides, having been once a Poet, it does breed
A foolish Itch to see how others speed.
Troth we Poets have had ill success of late,
But what you call our Faults, we call our Fate.
I have rais'd a Scheme, and finde that Poets are
Damn'd with the Influence of the Blazing-Star.
Here has been Rhime good store, and very fit,
For well made noise sometimes has past for Wit.
—'Twou'd make you smile.—
To see what confus'd faces Poets make,
This walks about, and cryes 'twill never take:
There's not one word of Mirth, nor Shew, nor Dance;
A Man of Fars thought I may then advance;
For I had promis'd, and I think you know it,
A proper Crown for the next dullest Poet.
Your Judgement is desir'd, and pray be free,
Whether this shall be Crown'd by you or me.