EPILOGUE, SPOKEN BY Mrs. BULKLEY AND Mifs CATLEY. Enter Mrs. Bulkley, who curtfies very low as beginning to fpeak. Then enter Mifs. Catley, who ftands full before her, and curtfies to the Audience. Mrs. BULKLey. HOLD, Ma'am, your pardon. What's your bu finefs here? Mifs CATLEY. The Epilogue. Mrs. BULKLEY. The Epilogue? Mifs CATLEY. Yes, the Epilogue, my dear. Mrs. BULKLey. Sure you miftake, Ma'am. The Epilogue I bring it. Mifs CATLEY. Excufe me, Ma'am. The Author bid me fing it. RECITATIVE. RECITATIVE. Ye beaux and belles, that form this fplendid ring, Mrs. BULKLey. Why fure the Girl's befide herfelf: an Epilogue of finging, A hopeful end indeed to fuch a blest beginning. Excufe me, Ma'am, I know the etiquette, Mifs CATLEY. What if we leave it to the House? Mrs. BULKLey. The Houfe!-Agreed. Mifs CATLEY. Agreed. Mrs. BULKEley. And fhe, who's party's largest, fhall proceed. I've all the critics and the wits for me. They, I am fure, will answer my commands, Mifs CATLEY. I'm for a different fet.-Old men, whose trade is RECITATIVE. Who mump their paffion, and who, grimly smiling Still thus addrefs the fair with voice beguiling. Turn, my fairett, turn, if ever Yes, I muft die, ho, ho, ho, ho. Da Capo. Mrs. BULKley. Let all the old pay homage to your merit :- Of French frifeurs, and nofegays, juftly vain, To drefs, and look like awkward Frenchmen her. Mifs CATLEY. Ay, take your travellers, travellers indeed! AIR. I'll fing to amuse you by night and by day, With Sandy, and Sawney, and Jockey, Mrs. Mrs. BULKLEY. Ye Gamefters, who fo eager in pursuit, Make but of all your fortune one va Toute: Ye Jockey tribe whofe ftock of words are few, "I hold the odds.-Done, done, with you, with you." Ye Barristers, fo fluent with grimace, 66 My Lord,-your Lordship mifconceives the cafe." Doctors. Who cough and answer every misfortuner, I wish I'd been call'd in a little fooner, Affift my cause with hands and voices hearty, AIR.-BALEINAMONY. Mifs CATLEY. Ye brave Irish lads, hark away to the crack, Affift me, I pray, in this woful attack; For fure I don't wrong you, you seldom are flack, When the ladies are calling, to blush, and hang back. For you're always polite and attentive, Still to amufe us inventive, And death is your only preventive. Your hands and your voices for me. Mrs. BULKLey. Well, Madam, what if, after all this sparring, Mifs CATLEY. And that our friendship may remain unbroken, |