Enter SERVANT S. BUTLER. Juft 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! COACHMAN. As I was coming in at the gate, a strange gentleman whisk'd by me; but he took to his heels, and made away to the George. If I did not fee mafter before, I fhou'd have fworn it had been his Honour. GARDINER. Ha'ft given orders for the bells to be set a ringing ? Never trouble thy head about that, 'tis done. as you My Dear, I long as much to tell you my whole ftory, 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 my house. My poor neighbours and my fervants shall rejoice with me. My hall shall be free to every one, and let my cellars be thrown open. BUT LE R. Ah! bless your Honour, may you never die again! COACHMAN. The fame good man that ever he was! Whurra! GARDINER. Sir GEORGE. Vellum, thou hast done me much service to-day. I know thou lov'ft Abigal, but fhe's disappointed in a forI'll make it up to both of you. I'll give thee a tune. M 3 thousand thousand pound with her. It is not fit there fhou'd be one fad heart in my houfe to-night. LADY. What you do for Abigal, I know is meant as a compliment to me. This is a new inftance of your love. ABIGA L. Mr. Vellum, you are a well-fpoken Man: Pray do you thank my Mafter and my Lady. Sir GEORGE. Vellum, I hope you are not difpleas'd with the Gift I make. VELLU M. The gift is two-fold. I receive from you For which, in humble wife, I thank the Donors: Honours. THE EPILOGUE, Spoken by Mrs. OLDFIELD. O-night the Poet's advocate I ftand, And he deferves the favour at my hand, In his next Play, if I would take this trouble, My help thus ask'd, I cou'd not choose but grant it, To warm your fancies, and to fteal your hearts? No Court-Intrigue, no City-Cuckoldom, No fong, no dance, no mufic but a Drum No fmutty thought in doubtful phrase exprest; When we wou'd raise your mirth, you hardly know Whether in ftri&iness you hou'd laugh or no, But But turn upon the Ladies in the pit, Protect him then, ye Fair-ones; for the Fair He draws a Widow, who, of blameless carriage, A nymph of five and forty finds her mate. Too long has Marriage, in this tasteless age, With ill-bred rallery Supply'd the stage; No little Scribler is of wit so bare, But has his fling at the poor wedded pair. Our Author deals not in conceits fo ftale: For fhou'd th' examples of his Play prevail, No man need blufh, tho' true to marriage-vows, Nor be a jeft tho' he shou'd love his spouse. Thus has be done you British conforts right, Whofe Hufbands, fhou'd they pry like mine to-night, Wou'd never find you in your conduct flipping, Tho' they turn'd Conjurers to take you tripping. |