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Air. — Cotillon.
Yes, I shall die; hu, hu, hu, hu !
Yes, I must die; ho, ho, ho, ho!
Their hands are only lent to the Heinel.
Give me my bonny Scot, that travels from the Tweed. 38
Where are the chiels? Ah, ah ! I well discern
The smiling looks of each bewitching bairn.
Air. — A bonnie young lad is my Jockey.
I'll sing to amuse you by night and by day,
Ye gamesters, who, so eager in pursuit,
Assist my cause with hands and voices hearty;
Come, end the contest here, and aid my party.
Air. — Ballinamony.
Ye brave Irish lads, hark away to the crack—
For you're always polite and attentive,
Still to amuse us inventive,
And death is your only preventive:
Your hands and your voices for me.
We both agree, like friends, to end our jarring 7
What if we leave the epilogue unspoken? 68
MRs. BULKLEY. And now, with late repentance, Un-epilogued the poet waits his sentence: Condemn the stubborn fool who can’t submit To thrive by flattery—though he starves by wit. 72 [Ereunt.
SHE STOOPS TO CONQUER."
TheRE is a place—so Ariosto sings— A treasury for lost and missing things; Lost human wits have places there assign'd them— And they who lose their senses, there may find them. But where's this place, this storehouse of the age 7
The moon, says he – but I affirm, the stage:
" From The Miscellaneous Works, 1801. — This epilogue, which had been given by its author to the Rev. Thomas Percy, was first published in the above collection. It is there described as An epilogue intended for Mrs. Bulkley; but it is stated, in a note, “for what comedy it was intended is not remembered.” Neither Steevens nor Reed could give the information required. Now, the letter appended to the quarreling epilogue decides the question: it is the second attempt of its author—