And now Messiers, what do you say, Unto our Modern Conscientious Play? Nor Whigg, nor Tory here can take Offence, It Libels neither Patriot, Peer nor Prince. 5 Nor Sheriff, nor Burgess, nor the Reverend Gown; Faith Here’s no Scandal worth Eight Hundred Pound, Our Damage is at most but Half a Crown. Only this Difference you must allow, That you receive th’ Affront and pay us too; 10 Would some Body had manag’d matters so. Here’s no Reflection on Damn’d Witnesses, We Scorn such out of Fashion things as these, They fail to be Belov’d, and fail to Please. No Salamanchian Doctorship’s Abus’d, 15 Nor a Malitious State’man here Accus’d. Tho’ here are Fools of every Fashion, Except State Fools, the Fools of Reformation. And these Originals decline so fast, We shall have none to Copy by at last. 20 There’s Joe and Jack a pair of Whining Fools And Leigh, and I, Dull, Lavish, Creeping Tools. Bowman’s for Mischief all, and carry’s on With Faun and Sneer as Gilting Whigg has done, But like theirs too, his Projects are o’r thrown. 25 Sweet mistris Corall here has lost her Lover, Pshaw English or Irish ground shall find another. Poor Madam Butler too, are you defeated, To Mrs. Butler. You never were before so basely Cheated. 30 Here Mistris Betty, Hah! she’s grown a very Woman, Thou’st got me Child, better me than no man. Here’s Blundering Richards is my Huffing Esquire, Damn me, the best in England’s for’t, d’e hear. Is that your Cue, come nearer, Faith thy Face Has Features not unlike Joe Hains’s Grace. 35 Impudence assist thee; and boldly try To speak for us, and for the Comedy. Mr. Richards Speaks. I’le do’t Gallants, I’le Justify this Play: Od Zoons ’tis Good, and if you lik’d you may.