At length Fatigu'd, she finds those Trifles vain,
Meer empty Joys, repeated o'er again:
But when by Nature urg'd, weak Fancy fails,
And Reason dictating, sound Sense prevails;
Wisely she takes the Lover to her Arms,
And owns her self subdu'd by Love's more potent Charms._




The EPILOGUE,

Spoken by Mrs. _Bradshaw_.


_Poets of late so scurrilous are grown,
Instead of Courting, they abuse the Town:
And when an_ Epilogue _entirely pleases,
In thundering Jests, it takes the House to pieces;
The_ Pit _smiles when the_ Gallery_'s misus'd,
The_ Gallery _sniggers when the_ Pit_'s abus'd_;
Side-Boxes _wou'd with Ladies Foibles play, }
But they themselves stand Buff to all we say, }
For nothing strikes them Dead, but_--Please to pay: }
_The_ Upper Regions _angry if pass'd by;
But when some wond'rous_ Joke _shall thither fly._
Faith, _Jack_, here's Sense and Learning in this Play,
We'll make our Ladies come the _Poet's_ Day.
_This Author wou'd by gentler Means persuade you,
And rather sooth your Follies than degrade you.