EPILOGUE, SPOKEN BY MRS. BULKLEY AND MISS CATLEY. Enter Mrs. Bulkley, who courtesies very low as beginning to speak. Then enter Miss Catley, who stands full before her, and courtesies to the Audience. MRS. BULKLEY. HOLD, ma'am, your pardon. What's your business here? MISS. CATL. The Epilogue. MRS. BULK. The Epilogue? MISS. CATL. Yes, the Epilogue, my dear. MRS. BULK. Sure you mistake, ma'am. The Epilogue? I bring it. MISS CATL. Excuse me, ma'am. The author bid me sing it. RECITATIVE. Ye beaux and belles, that form this splendid ring, Suspend your conversation while I sing. MRS. BULK. Why sure the girl's beside herself: an Epilogue of singing, A hopeful end indeed to such a bless'd beginning. Besides, a singer in a comic set! Excuse me, ma'am; I know the etiquette. MISS CATL. What if we leave it to the House? MRS. BULK. The House!-Agreed. MISS CATL. Agreed. MRS. BULK. And she, whose party's largest, shall proceed. And first I hope, you'll readily agree MISS CATL. I'm for a different set-Old men whose trade is Still to gallant and dangle with the ladies. RECITATIVE. Who mump their passion, and who, grimly smiling, Still thus address the fair, with voice beguiling. AIR-COTILLON. Turn, my fairest, turn, if ever [Da capo. MRS. BULK. Let all the old pay homage to your merit: Give me the young, the gay, the men of spirit. Of French friseurs and nosegays justly vain, To dress, and look like awkward Frenchmen here, MISS CATL. Ay, take your travellers, tra vellers indeed! [Tweed. Give me my bonny Scot, that travels from the A A Where are the cheels! Ah, ah, I well discern AIR. I'll sing to amuse you by night and by day, And be unco merry when you are but gay; When you with your bagpipes are ready to play, My voice shall be ready to carol away With Sandy, and Sawney, and Jockey, With Sawney, and Jarvie, and Jockey. MRS. BULK. Ye gamesters, who, so eager in pursuit, Make but of all your fortune one va toute: 'My lord-your lordship misconceives the case:' Doctors, who cough and answer every misfortuner, I wish I'd been call'd in a little sooner :' Assist my cause with hands and voices hearty, Come end the contest here, and aid my party. AIR. BALEINAMONY. MISS CATL. Ye brave Irish lads, hark away to the crack, Assist me, I pray, in this woful attack; For sure I don't wrong you, you seldom are slack, When the ladies are calling, to blush, and hang back: For you're always polite and attentive, And death is your only preventive: Your hands and your voices for me, EPILOGUES. 271 MRS. BULK. Well, madam, what if, after all this sparring, We both agree, like friends, to end our jarring! MISS CATL. And that our friendship may remain unbroken, What if we leave the Epilogue unspoken? MRS. BULK. Agreed. MISS CATL. Agreed. MRS. BULK. And now, with late repentance, Unepilogued the Poet waits his sentence: Condemn the stubborn fool who can't submit To thrive by flattery, though he starves by wit. [Exeunt. EPILOGUE, INTENDED FOR MRS. BULKLEY. THERE is a place, so Ariosto sings, Lost human wits have places there assign'd them, them. But where's this place, this storehouse of the age? The gay coquette, who ogles all the day, How can the piece expect or hope for quarter? THE END. C. Whittingham, College House, Chiswick. |