EPILOGUE, "IS ten to one this play can never please All that are here: fome come to take their ease, And sleep an att or two; but those we fear} We've frighted with our trumpets: fo 'tis clear They'll fay 'tis naught. Others, to hear the city Abus'd extreamly, and to cry that's witty; that I fear Which we have not done neither; All the expected good w'are like to hear For this play at this time, is only in The merciful conftruction of good women; (For fuch a one we fhew'd 'em) If they smile, And fay 't will do; I know within a while All the best men are ours; for 'tis ill hap, If they hold when their Ladies bid 'em clap. |