How quick we credit every oath,

[pg 39]

And hear her plight the willing troth;

Fondly we hope 'twill last for aye,

When lo! she changes in a day,

The Record will forever stand,

"That woman's vows, are writ in sand."

AN OCCASIONAL PROLOGUE DELIVERED BY THE AUTHOR, PREVIOUS TO THE PERFORMANCE OF THE WHEEL OF FORTUNE, AT A PRIVATE THEATRE.

Since the refinement of this polish'd age,

Has swept immoral raillery from the stage;

Since taste has now expung'd licentious wit,

Which stamp'd disgrace on all an author writ;

Since now to please with purer scenes we seek,

Nor dare to call the blush from beauty's cheek;

Oh! let the modest muse some pity claim,

And meet indulgence—though she find not fame.

But not for her alone, we wish respect,

Others appear more conscious of defect;

To night, no Veteran Roscii you behold,

In all the arts of scenic action old;

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