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First Line: What epilogues are made, for who can tell
Last Line: Who knows but I may come to act queen kate.
Subject(s): Courts & Courtiers; Love; Plays & Playwrights; Tragedy

What Epilogues are made, for who can tell,
'Twere worth the pains to write and speak 'em well.
If they cou'd gain your favour for bad Plays,
But by their merits you'll condemn or praise:
'Tis but a form, no matter then by whom,
Or what is said, and therefore I am come.
I, who no partial Voice can hope t'engage,
No graces of my own, nor of the Stage:
But tho' I cannot yet expect to move,
Or merit either your applause or love:
Sure practising so young I may improve.
That's all I come for: what's the Play to me,
And since I'm here, I think I'll let you see,
What you're to hope, I may hereafter be.
Come, a short taste of some Heroick now?
But do not trust me, no, for if you do,
By all the furies and the flames of Love:
By Love, which is the hottest burning Hell,
I'll set you both on fire to blaze for ever.
How was that done, I'll swear it pleases me,
And tho' I came careless of your decree,
If favouring, or against our Tragedy,
Methinks I'm now grown tender of its fate,
Who knows but I may come to act Queen Kate.

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