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Show Prologue wiitten by Sir ¢. 5 Y)0¢ts and Thicges can fearce be rooted onr, L Scapenere fo hardly they'll have th other bout - Burnt in the hand the Thicves fall o't agen . dnd Poets bift, cry they did [o to Bén--- Like Boys, who have at School too oft been [tript { ,,.:'Tbe] have no feeling in the part that's whipt . Theyre for your pity, not your anger, fir - Theyre een fuch fools, they wanld bethough - Elfewher - Youll [a j‘c,‘}"dge fo i clean.sh data import.tsv out README have wit you all can flatter, why not bere you pay, and [o may be fevere your felves then Gallants as Jo pay . dnd lead not each of you kis Bench aftray . Let eafte Citts be pleas'd with all they hear Go home, and to their Neighbowrs praife our Ware. . - They with good flomachs comse, and fain won'd eat « Yon nothing like, and make them loath their meat - Though fome men are with Wine, Wit, Beauty cloyd . The €reatures fBill by others are enjoyds Tis not fair play how'd judge, and rail, and damn for half the Town But do your worfts if once the Pit grows thin will hardly venture irn Then we' are reveng'd on you, who weeds amnft com Hither, to fhun your own'dull. [elves at home. - But you Rind Burgers who had. never yet . Either your Heads or Bellies full of wit " Our Poets hope to pleafe5 but not too well 8 Nor wou'd he have the angry Criticks [well wind h bhi m fi l be F t m d r t . Be neither they too flharp, nor you too kind. Your dear lov'd Masks that one for his Half Crown, §{ .-,h - |