The She-Gallants/Epilogue
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.