 | The Countess of Salisbury |  |
EPILOGUE, Spoken by Mrs. DANCER.
This virgin author's such a blushing rogue—
What! no gay, lively, laughing epilogue!
“Madam (says he, and look'd so wise) in Greece”—
(Greece; that's their cant) “no jesting clos'd the piece.
“Play, epilogue and all were grave and solemn”—
Then, Sir, the town were fools that did not mawl 'em.
No—let your heroine, in this laughing age,
Come thus (as Bayes says) souse upon the stage;
Then with a jaunty air, half smile, half grin,
Curtsey quite round the boxes, and begin.
What! no gay, lively, laughing epilogue!
“Madam (says he, and look'd so wise) in Greece”—
(Greece; that's their cant) “no jesting clos'd the piece.
“Play, epilogue and all were grave and solemn”—
Then, Sir, the town were fools that did not mawl 'em.
No—let your heroine, in this laughing age,
Come thus (as Bayes says) souse upon the stage;
Then with a jaunty air, half smile, half grin,
Curtsey quite round the boxes, and begin.
A spark from court, and no one to detect him!
A pretty fellow too, and yet reject him!—
Now, Ladies, let me die but it was silly—
You'll not approve such horrid prudery—will ye?—
I shou'd have bless'd the occasion, and receiv'd him!
He shou'd have kneel'd and vow'd, and I—believ'd him;
Laugh'd, danc'd and sported it till spouse came over,
Then kiss'd my dear—while Betty hid my lover.
A pretty fellow too, and yet reject him!—
Now, Ladies, let me die but it was silly—
You'll not approve such horrid prudery—will ye?—
I shou'd have bless'd the occasion, and receiv'd him!
He shou'd have kneel'd and vow'd, and I—believ'd him;
Laugh'd, danc'd and sported it till spouse came over,
Then kiss'd my dear—while Betty hid my lover.
But here again our Poet checks my flight,
“Nay, Madam, you mistake the matter quite.
“My heroine liv'd in ancient, honest times;
“Cards were unknown, and gallantries were crimes”—
'Psha! what if females then were seldom rovers?
Husbands—(aye, there's the cause) were warm as lovers.
Their warlike days indeed were spent in killing;
But then, at night—no turtles were so billing.
“Nay, Madam, you mistake the matter quite.
“My heroine liv'd in ancient, honest times;
“Cards were unknown, and gallantries were crimes”—
'Psha! what if females then were seldom rovers?
Husbands—(aye, there's the cause) were warm as lovers.
Their warlike days indeed were spent in killing;
But then, at night—no turtles were so billing.
Well—tho' he gives me no smart things to say,
I wish this begging face may save his play:
The thing may mend, and learn to please you better—
Do then—nay, pray you shew him some good nature.
I wish this begging face may save his play:
The thing may mend, and learn to please you better—
Do then—nay, pray you shew him some good nature.
| The Countess of Salisbury | |