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EPILOGUE. Spoken by Mr s Knight. Written by Mr. D'urfey.

48

EPILOGUE. Spoken by Mr s Knight. Written by Mr. D'urfey.

As a young sprightly Widow of the Town,
That had some years the marriage Comforts known.
Believing She had once the best of Men,
Resolves to try her Fortune o'er agen:
So our Young scribling Fool, that found before
Your kind Indulgence, needs must write once more.
Plagu'd with an Itch that does through Poets run,
Who once being enter'd, never can have done.
He says my Intercession cannot fail,
And that a pleading Female must prevail.
I told him, I shou'd never help his Play,
As having ne'er oblig'd, I mean your way,
And that in times of War you Women chuse,
Just like Jack-Boots, only for present use.
Till your Convenience serv'd to stand at door,
Then laid by, by the Footman to be wore.
Bus'ness of Love moves now no tender Passion,
Your Heads are buzz'd with bus'ness of the Nation;
And when your Ladies sigh for a soft word,
You roar, Boy, bring my Pistols, fetch my Sword.
What Hopes then I cou'd have he well might guess;
Pray Heav'n, these jarring days may quickly cease.
Women and Misers always pray for peace.
Plunder of Gold, the Miser's fear does move,
Ours, that we shall not plunder'd be of Love.
For to say truth, tho' Souldiers all are brave,
They're the worst Lovers that our Sex can have.
For now adays, their duty grows so hard,
They 're always Resty when they mount our Guard.
However I must try my Luck. If then
There chance to be amongst you, Gentlemen,
Any so kind to hear what I can say,
Them I invoke in favour of this Play.
It has some Wit, tho' mix'd with many a Fau't,
Some little Fancy too; but as for Plot,
There are so many New ones found elsewhere,
He thought not worth his time to make one here;
And therefore tho' you can't that Part applaud,
Clap now, for there's a Pumpkin Plot abroad.
FINIS.