University of Virginia Library

Search this document 
  
  
  
  
The EPILOGUE written, and spoke, by Mr. Haynes, in the Habit of a Horse Officer, mounted on an Ass.
  

collapse section1. 
 1. 
collapse section2. 
 1. 
collapse section3. 
 1. 
 4. 
collapse section5. 
 1. 



The EPILOGUE written, and spoke, by Mr. Haynes, in the Habit of a Horse Officer, mounted on an Ass.

You have seen (before now) since this Shape-shewing age,
More Asses than mine, on a Beau-crowded Stage.
Wherefore by th'Example of Fam'd Dogget, my Brother,
To shew our Stage has Asses on't, as well as t'other;
Thus mounted I'm come to invite ye oft hither,
To Beaumont and Fletcher thus coupled together.
My Fancy, his Judgment; my Person, his Face;
With the mighty Interest he has in this place,
(For indeed, as I'm told, but pray let me not wrong ye)
My Ass has Relations, and Great ones among ye;
In the Galleries, Side Boxes, on the Stage, in the Pit;
What's your Critick? Your Beau? Your Keeper? Your Wit?
Your Fighting Ass is a Bully,
Your Sneaking Ass is a Cit,
Your Keeping Ass is a Cully,
But your Top, Prime Ass is your Wit.
They all fool Cit of his Wife,
He fools them all of their Pelf;
But your Wit's so damn'd an Ass,
He only fools himself!
Writing one Play a Year, for a Wit he'd pass,
His Lean Third Day makes out to him he's an Ass.
Be'nt I an Ass now thus to mount my Brother;
But he that's pleas'd with it too, is not he Another?
Are we not Asses all (twixt me and you)
To part with out Old Money till we were sure of New?
Since then so many Asses here abound,
Where an Eternal Link of Wit goes round,


No Poet sure will think it a Disgrace,
To be ally'd to This Accomplisht Ass;
For he's a great Critick you may read it in his Face.
As for his Courage truly I ca'nt say much,
Yet he might serve for a Trooper among the Dutch.
Tho, of their Side, I'm sure he'd never fight,
His Passive Obedience shews I'm in the right.
[Whips the Ass often, who by reason of the innate Dullness of the Beast never flnches for it.
He's a Courtier fit to appear before a Queen;
Advance Bucephalus, view but his Mein:
Ladies, I'm sure you like his spruce Behaviour,
I ne'r knew ought but Asses in Their favour.
Fair Ones, at what I say take no Offence!
For—
When his Degree a Lover does commence,
You coin an Ass out of a Man of Sense.
Your Beaus that soften so your flinty Hearts,
They are Asses—Taylors make them Men of Parts.
Now some have told me this might give Offence,
That riding my Ass thus is riding th'Audience;
But what of that? the Brother rides the Brother,
The Son the Father; we All ride one another:
Then for a Jest for this time let it pass,
For he that takes it ill I'm Sure's an Ass.