An EPILOGUE.
AMONGST all Characters nearest Divine,
You that are Witty-men should cry up mine;
And of all Bargains that are daily driven,
Ours is the most ingaging under Heaven:
Whose Souls in a Seraphick station move,
As all must do who Marry, Love for Love.
Sir Sampson here, a strange Old sordid Sot, }
Meaning by Candle Inch to buy my Lot, }
Would settle on me, Oh! the Lord knows what; }
He for a Purchase the old way takes Care, }
And like a Higler in a Country Fair }
Bawls out aloud, take Money for your Mare: }
Or Brother like Stockjobbing cheat would make,
My Friend so much you give, so much you take;
But Valentine, whose Person, Wit and Art,
Pleads fairer Title to a tender Heart;
With an endearing Claim, fine Words address,
A Graceful Person, and a taking Face:
A solid Judgment that can stand the test,
Trick humour gay—I fancy'd all the rest;
Compell'd my Love—The Passion strong did grow, }
Whither all this, a Woman's Heart should bow, }
Your Pardon Ladies, I am sure you know: }
Besides by Subtilty I Tryal made,
Found out his Haunts, and Snares each way I laid;
Mark'd, tho' the frolick Widows—City Dames,
Inmates of Leicester-field, Pall-Mall, St. James:
The Tall, the Short, the Freckl'd—Fair and Brown,
The straight-lac'd Maiden, and the Miss o'th' Town;
We're sure to work on in Adversity,
Yet still what Stock he had was kept for me:
And for such Love, if we should Love alow,
Your Pardon Ladies, I am sure you know;
I took Compassion on the Bankrupt Debtor,
He had no Money, But had something better:
Faith like a generous Girl, I paid his worth,
For I had Honour in me from my Birth;
