. Ill-natured, as an old maid--

BELL. Wanton, as a young widow--

SHARP. And jealous, as a barren wife.

HEART. Agreed.

BELL. Well; 'midst of these dreadful denunciations, and notwithstanding
the warning and example before me, I commit myself to lasting durance.

BELIN. Prisoner, make much of your fetters. [_Giving her hand_.]

BELL. Frank, will you keep us in countenance?

VAIN. May I presume to hope so great a blessing?

ARAM. We had better take the advantage of a little of our friend's
experience first.

BELL. O' my conscience she dares not consent, for fear he should recant.
[_Aside_.] Well, we shall have your company to church in the morning.
May be it may get you an appetite to see us fall to before you. Setter,
did not you tell me?--

SET. They're at the door: I'll call 'em in.

A DANCE.

BELL. Now set we forward on a journey for life. Come take your fellow-
travellers. Old George, I'm sorry to see thee still plod on alone.

HEART. With gaudy plumes and jingling bells made proud,
The youthful beast sets forth, and neighs aloud.
A morning-sun his tinselled harness gilds,
And the first stage a down-hill greensward yields.
But, oh--
What rugged ways attend the noon of life!
Our sun declines, and with what anxious strife,
What pain we tug that galling load, a wife.
All coursers the first heat with vigour run;
But 'tis with whip and spur the race is won.

[_Exeunt Omnes_.]

EPILOGUE.
Spoken by MRS. BARRY.

As a rash girl, who will all hazards run,
And be enjoyed, though sure to be undone,
Soon as her curiosity is over,
Would give the world she could her toy recover,
So fares it with our poet; and I'm sent
To tell you he already does repent:
Would you were all as forward to keep Lent.
Now the deed's done, the giddy thing has leisure
To think o' th' sting, that's in the tail of pleasure.
Methinks I hear him in consideration:
What will the world say? Where's my reputation?
Now that's at stake. No, fool, 'tis out o' fashion.
If loss of that should follow want of wit,
How many undone men were in the pit!
Why that's some comfort to an author's fears,
If he's an ass, he will be tryed by's peers.
But hold, I am exceeding my commission:
My business here was humbly to petition;
But we're so used to rail on these occasions,
I could not help one trial of your patience:
For 'tis our way, you know, for fear o' th' worst,
To be beforehand still, and cry Fool first.
How s