EPILOGUE, SPOKEN BY MRS BULKLEY AND MISS CATLEY. Enter Mrs Bulkley, who courtesies very low as beginning to speak. Then enter Miss Catley, who stands full before her, and courtesies to the Audience. Mrs BULKLEY. HOLD, Ma'am, your pardon. What's your business here ? Sure you mistake, Ma'am. The Epilogue, I bring it. Miss CATLEY. Excuse me, Ma'am. The Author bid me sing it. RECITATIVE. Ye beaux and belles, that form this splendid ring, Suspend your conversation while I sing. Mrs BULKLEY. Why, sure the girl's beside herself! an Epilogue of singing, A hopeful end indeed to such a blest beginning. Excuse me, Ma'am, I know the etiquette. Miss CATLEY. What if we leave it to the house? Mrs BULKLEY. The house!-Agreed. Miss CATLEY. Agreed. Mrs BULKLEY. And she whose party's largest shall proceed. Miss CATLEY. I'm for a different set.-Old men whose trade is RECITATIVE. Who mump their passion, and who, grimly smiling, Still thus address the fair with voice beguiling. AIR.-Cotillon. Turn my fairest, turn, if ever Yes, I shall die, hu, hu, hu, hu, Mrs BULKLEY. Let all the old pay homage to your merit; Of French frisseurs and nosegays justly vain, To dress, and look like awkward Frenchmen here; Miss CATLEY. Ay, take your travellers-travellers indeed! AIR.-A bonny young Lad is my Jockey. I'll sing to amuse you by night and by day, With Sandy, and Sawney, and Jockey, 1 Mrs BULKLEY. Ye Gamesters, who so eager in pursuit, Make but of all your fourtune one va toute: "My Lord,-Your Lordship misconceives the case. Doctors, who cough and answer every misfortunér, I wish I'd been call'd in a little sooner: Assist my cause with hands and voices hearty, AIR.-Ballinamony. Miss CATLEY. Ye brave Irish lads, hark away to the crack, For sure I don't wrong you, you seldom are slack, Still to amuse us inventive, And death is your only preventive : Mrs BULKLEY. Well, Madam, what if, after all this sparring, Miss CATLEY. And that our friendship may remain unbroken, |