Page:She-Gallants.djvu/86

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EPILOGUE.


Spoke by Mrs. Bracegirdle.


I Who have bin the Poets Spark to day,
Will now appear the Champion of this Play,
Know all, that would pretend to my good Grace,
I mortally Dislike a damning Face:
Pleas'd or displeas'd; no matter now, 'tis past.
The first that dares be angry, breathes his last.
Who shall presume to doubt my Will and Pleasure,
Him I defie, to send his Weapons measure.
If War you chuse, and Blood must needs be spilt here;
By Jove, let me alone to match your Tilter.
  I'll give you satisfaction if I can,
  Death! 'tis not the first time I have kill'd my Man.
  On pain of being posted to your Sorrow,
  Fail not at Four to meet me here to morrow.

EINIS.