University of Virginia Library

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EPILOGUE; Written by Mr. Sewel . And Spoken by Mrs. Bullock.

Like a poor Ghost, which left some Wealth behind it,
I come to point the Place, where you may find it.
You strait will answer, (as you Moderns measure,)
Can a dead Husband be accounted Treasure!
Yes, had be left me, as your Spouses true,
A Modern Settlement;—why, Things might do.
Then I could view him stretch'd upon his Bier,
And seem to shed the fashionable Tear:
O'er the pale Corps, more pale, devoutly shriek,
But read the Joynture with a glowing Cheek.
Instead of This, our Poet took a Dance,
And forc'd me, on his Whimsies into France:
Sad Things these Wits! Who, with convenient Ease,
Can Banish, Kill, or Marry, as they please.
But for my Self, and Sex, I here engage,
How Wits should fix this Matter on the Stage.
He should have made me like lamenting Dido,
A sad, a weeping, a despairing Wi---dow;
With Sword in Hand, with Tears unnumber'd shed,
Look, and point out—the Consummation Bed!
Then mount the funeral Pile, with dreadful Ire,
And, as in Life Time, set the House on Fire.

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There were a thousand Ways his Art might try,
To kill me fairly, if I was to dye.
But to survive, and Nothing to come after,
But carrying me on t'other side the Water,
This is a Trick that I'll revenge on Him,
By asking whether,—He shall sink, or swim;
A Husband kill'd, and no Provision known,
Dear Ladies, do but make the Case your own:
What e'er by Tragick Scenes the Bard intends,
I'll Swear, that He and I will ne'er be Friends,
Till he can place me by his Magick Pen
In Statu quo, and marry me again
But, for my Sake, not that the Bard may thrive,
Give me your Leave, that Richard may revive.