EPILOGUE TO THE STAGE, AT THE COCK-PIT.
In graving with Pygmalion to contend,
Or painting with Apelles, doubtless the end
Must be disgrace: our actor did not so,—
He only aim'd to go, but not out-go.
Nor think that this day any prize was play'd; [9] Here were no bets at all, no wagers laid: [10] All the ambition that his mind doth swell,
Is but to hear from you (by me) 'twas well.