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 Catley. The Epilogue. Mrs. B. The Epilogue? Miss C. Yes, the Epilogue, my dear. Mrs. B. Sure, you mistake, Ma'am. The Epilogue! I bring it. Miss C. sing it. Excuse me, Ma'am. The author bid me Recitative. Ye beaux and belles, that form this splendid ring, Suspend your conversation while I sing. Mrs. B. Why, sure, the girl's beside herself! an Epilogue of singing? A hopeful end, indeed, to such a blest beginning. Besides, a singer in a comic set Excuse me, Ma'am, I know the etiquette. Miss C. What if we leave it to the house? Mrs. B. And she whose party 's largest shall pro ceed. And first, I hope you 'll readily agree I've all the critics and the wits for me. Miss C. 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, AIR.-Cotillon. Turn, my fairest, turn, if ever Strephon caught thy ravish'd eye, Yes, I shall die, hu, hu, hu, hu! Da Capo. Mrs. B. Let all the old pay homage to your Who take a trip to Paris once a-year, merit ; To dress, and look like awkward Frenchmen here,— Lend me your hands: O, fatal news to tell, Their hands are only lent to the Heinelle. Miss C. Ay, take your travellers - travellers indeed! Give me my bonny Scot, that travels from the Tweed. 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, With Sandy, and Sawney, and Jockey, With Sawnie, and Jarvie, and Jockey. Mrs. B. Ye gamesters, who, so eager in pursuit, Ye jockey tribe, whose stock of words are few, 'My Lord, your Lordship misconceives the case: Doctors, who 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.- Ballinamony. Miss C. Ye brave Irish lads, hark away to the crack, Assist me, I pray, in this woeful attack; For sure, I don't wrong you you seldom are slack, When the ladies are calling, to blush and hang back. For you are always polite and attentive, And death is your only preventive; Your hands and voices for me. Mrs. B. Well, Madam, what if, after all this sparring, We both agree, like friends, to end our jarring? Miss C. And that our friendship may remain unbrok en, What if we leave the Epilogue unspoken? Mrs. B. Agreed. Mrs. B. And now with late repentance, Exeunt. AN EPILOGUE INTENDED FOR MRS. BULKLEY. THERE is a place A treasury for lost and missing things, Lost human wits have places there assign'd them, Both prone to change, no settled limits fix, How can the piece expect or hope for quarter? The English laws forbid to punish lunatics. |