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Show EPILOG UE: Written and Spoke by Jo. HAYNES in Mourning. ICome now here, your Poet's Fate to fee, He and his Play may both be damu'd for me : N o ; Royal Theatre, I come to M o u r n for Thee. And muft thefe Structures then untimely fall, Whilft the other Houfe ftands, and gets the Devil and all* Muft fill kind Fortune through all Weathers fleer 'em i And Beauties bloom their fpight of Edax Rerum ? Viviturlngenio, that damnd Motto there, [Looking up at it Seduc'd me firft to be a Wicked Player. Hard Times indeed; Oh Tempora ! Oh Mores! / knew that Stage muft down, where not one Whore is. But can you have the Hearts tho* * (Pray now fpeak,) After all our Services, to let us break ; Tou cannot do't, unlefs the Devil's in ye, What Arts, what Merit, ha'n't we usd to win ye* firft, to divert ye with fome new French Strowlers; We brought ye Bona Sere's, Barba Colars. [Mocking th( late Singers, When their Male-Throats no longer drew your Money : We got ye an Eunuch's Pipe, Seignior Rampony. That Beardlefs Songfter we cou'd ne'er make much on; The Females found a damnd Blot in his Scutcheon. A n Italian now we've got of mighty Fame, D o n Sigifmondo Fideli. -There's Mufick in his Name; His Voice is like the Aiufick of the Spheres^ It fhou'd be Heavenly for the Price it bears. [20 /f a timci He's a handfome Fellow too, looks brisk and trim ; jf he dorit take ye, then the Devil take him* Beftdes] |