Enter SERVANTS.
BUTLER.

Just as the steward told us, lads! look you there, if he ben't with my Lady already!

GARDINER.

He! he! he! what a joyful night will this be for

Madam!

COACΗΜΑΝ.

19

As I was coming in at the gate, a strange gentleman whisked by me, but he took to his heels, and made away to the George. If I did not fee master before me, I should have fworn it was his honour.

GARDINER.

Ha'st given orders for the bells to be set a ringing?

COACHMAN.

Never trouble thy head about that, 'tis done.

Sir GEORGE [to Lady.]

My dear, I long as much to tell you my whole story, as you do to hear it. In the mean while, I am to look upon this as my wedding-day. I'll have nothing but the voice of mirth and feasting in any house. My poor neighbours and iny servants thall rejoice with me. My hall shall be free to every one, and let my cellars be thrown open.

BUTLER.

Ah! bless your honour, may you never die again!
COACΗΜΑΝ.

The fame good man that ever he was!

Vellum, thou hast done me much service to-day. I know thou lov'st Abigal, but she's disappointed in a forI ll make it up to both of you. I'll give thee a thousand pound with her. It is not fit there should be one sad heart in my house to-night.

tune.

LAD'T

LADY.

What you do for Abigal, I know is meant as a compliment to me. This is a new instance of your love.

ABIGA L.

Mr. Vellum, you are a well spoken man: Pray do you thank my master and my Lady,

SirGEORGE.

Vellum, I hope you are not displeased with the gift I

make.

VELLUM.

The gift is two-fold. I receive from you
The virtuous partner, and a portion too;

For which, in bumble wife, I thank the donors :

And so we bid good-night to both your bo-nours.

THE THE

EPILOGUE,

T

Spoken by Mrs OLDFIELD.

O-night the poet's advocate I stand,
And he deferves the favour at my hand,

Who in my equipage their cause debating
Has plac'd two lovers, and a third in waiting;
If both the first shou'd from their duty swerve.
There's one behind the wainscot in reserve.
In his next play, if I would take this trouble,
He promis'd me to make the number double:
In troth 'twas spoke like an obliging creature,
For tho', 'tis simple, yet it shews good nature.
My help thus ask'd, I cou'd not choose but grant it,
And really I thought the play wou'd want it.
Void as it is of all the usual arts

To warm your fancies, and to steal your hearts:
No court-intrigue, no city-cukołdom,
No song, no dance, no music but a drum
No smutty thought in doubtful phrase exprest;
And, gentlemen, if so, pray where's the jeft ?
When we wou'd raise your mirth, you hardly know
Whether in strictness you shou'd laugh or no,

1

:

But

But turn upon the Ladies in the pit,
And if they redden, you are sure 'tis wit.

Protect him then, ye fair-ones; for the fair

Of all conditions are his equal care.

f

He draws a widow, who, of blameless carriage,
True to her jointure, hates a fecond marriage;
And to improve a virtuous wife's delights,
Out of one man contrives two wedding-nights.
Nay, to oblige the sex in every state,
A nymph of five and forty finds her mate.

Too long has marriage, in this tasteless age,
With ill-bred raillery supply'd the stage;
No little scribbler is of wit so bare,
But has his fling at the poor wedded pair,
Our author deals not in conceits so stale:
For should th' examples of his play prevail,
No man need blush, tho' true to marriage-vows,
Nor be a jest though he shou'd love his spouse.
Thus he has done you British consorts right,
Whose husbands, should they pry like mine to-night,
Would never find you in your conduct flipping,
Though they turn'dconjurers to take you tripping.

THE