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EPILOGUE, Spoken by Mrs. Rogers.

Well , Gentlemen, our Author bids me say,
He Treats you with an Out-of-fashion Play.
His fair Court Miss, perkt in her Raigning Glory,
In the late Age had been a modish Story.
But now the old dull Tale will never do.—
And yet I'll Swear the Play has something new.—
New, did I say? Yes, if it has no more,
Here's Two new Legs, you never saw before.
Nay, and what's more, they come to Court you too:
Ay, Sirs, You see what Wonders you can do;
Bring a young Suppliant to those Sweet Faces,
To beg to our poor Play your kind good Graces.
Faith Sirs, for once lay by your Critick Thunder,
Not for the Sensless Poet, Hang him Blunder,
But for Our sakes Your angry Vengeance stay:
Consider, Sirs, this is the Womens Play.
And when we wooe your Favour, sure you are
Not so hard-hearted to deny our Prayer.
Besides, let me intreat, baulk not a poor
Petitioner, that never begg'd before.
Grant me but this First Suit, a Boon so easie,
And in Return, I'll one day hope to please ye.
Encouraged by your Smiles a Beam so fair
Here's Two Good Works at once, for I Declare
You will both save a Play, and make a Player.