University of Virginia Library

EPILOGUE.

Spoke by Miss Santlow, running out upon the Stage, as if she had been forcibly withheld. The First Epilogue she ever spoke.
Nay , I'm got loose—Now follow, if you dare;
I have Friends here, will think me worth their Care.
Wou'd ye believe it, Sirs?—The Cross-grain'd Poet,
Ay, frown, I care not—The whole House shall know it;
The Graceless, Grave, Unlov'd, Unloving—Rogue,
Thought me too young to speak his Epilogue.
That a Man's Reason!—That I'm Young, I know,
But, pray, am I the worse for being so?
'Tis for my self, I'll plead, and while I stay,
I'll recommend my Parts, and not his Play;
In Comedy they tell me I am Proof,
You say I've Air, I say, I've Tongue enough.
Fain wou'd I once in Tragædy be try'd,
Sure I cou'd make a Fair Inconstant Bride,
And am as soft a Nymph as ever dy'd;
See there now!—Were not those Words finely spoke?
Now for some God, or Goddess to invoke.
Tell me ye mighty Pow'rs, that reign on high,
If Heav'n e'er thinks on Poets—tell me why—
This Bard durst slight a Maid so Bright as I.
I'm quite transported! See,—I've found the way!
Oh! how He'll wish, I'd acted in his Play!
That Thought will sting—Don't you his Fate decree,
Leave the sweet Act of my Revenge to me;
My Female Courage can such Wonders do,
As shall defeat him—tho' upheld by you.