[EPILOGUE,]
Spoken by Mrs. Barry.
I've heard wise men in politicks lay down }
What feats by little England might be done, }
Were all agreed, and all would act as one. }
Ye wives a useful hint from this might take, }
The heavy, old, despotick kingdom shake, }
And make your matrimonial Monsieurs quake. }
Our heads are feeble, and we're cramp'd by laws;
Our hands are weak, and not too strong our cause:
Yet would those heads and hands, such as they are, }
In firm confed'racy resolve on war, }
You'd find your tyrants——what I've found my dear. }
What only two united can produce
You've seen to-night, a sample for your use:
Single, we found we nothing could obtain;
We join our force—and we subdu'd our men.
Believe me (my dear sex) they are not brave;
Try each your man, you'll quickly find your slave.
I know they'll make campaigns, risk blood and life; }
But this is a more terrifying strife; }
They'll stand a shot, who'll tremble at a wife. }
Beat then your drums, and your shrill trumpets sound, }
Let all your visits of your feats resound: }
And deeds of war in cups of tea go round: }
The stars are with you, fate is in your hand, }
In twelve months time you've vanquish'd half the land; }
Be wise, and keep 'em under good command. }
This year will to your glory long be known,
And deathless ballads hand your triumphs down;
Your late atchievements ever will remain, }
For tho' you cannot boast of many slain, }
Your pris'ners shew, you've made a brave campaign. }
[THE]
MISTAKE.
A
COMEDY.