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Show If I • ( «9 ) &©• <§& '$i\> 7*7 <&v <?i< JO-vU J W l tvSw eA/SAl tVVa eX/~\ P R O L O G U E To the Vmofid Wife, Spoken by Mrs. Bracegirdle. SINCE 'tis the Intent and Bufinefs of the Stage, To copy out the Follies of the Age -, To hold to every Man a faithful Glafs, And Jhew him of what Species he's an Afs ; I hope the next that teaches in the School, Will jhew our Author he's a jcribling Fool. And that the Satire may be fure to bite, ^' Kind Heaven J Infpire fome venom'd Prieft to write, £ And grant fome ugly Lady may indite. J For I wou'd have him lafh'd, by Heavens / J wou'd, Till his Prefumption fwam away in Blood. Three Plays at once proclaims a Face of Brafs, No matter what they are ; That's not the Cafe, To write three Plays, e'en that's to be an Afs. But what I leaft forgive, he\nows it too, For to his Coft he lately has lenown you. Experience ftiews, to many a Writer's fmart, You hold a Court where Mercy ne'er had part ; So much of the old Serpent's Sting you have, You love to Damn, as Heav'n delights to Save. In foreign Parts, let a bold Volunteer, For publick Good, upon the Stage appear, He meets ten thoufand Smiles, to diffipate his Fear. I AH |