_These People have regal'd you here to-day (In my Opinion) with a saucy Play; In which the Author does presume to shew, That Coxcomb,_ ab Origine--_was Beau. Truly I think the thing of so much weight, } That if some sharp Chastisement ben't his Fate, } Gad's Curse, it may in time destroy the State. } I hold no one its Friend, I must confess, Who wou'd discauntenance you Men of Dress. Far, give me leave t'abserve, good Clothes are Things Have ever been of great Support to Kings: All Treasons come fram Slovens; it is nat Within the reach of Gentle Beaux to plat; They have no Gall; no Spleen, no Teeth, no Stings, Of all Gad's Creatures, the most harmless Things. Thro' all Recard, no Prince was ever slain By one who had a Feather in his Brain, They're Men of too refin'd an Education, To squabble with a Court--for a vile dirty Nation. I'm very pasitive, you never saw A tho'ro' Republican a finish'd Beau. Nor truly shall you very often see A ~Jacobite~ much better drest than he: In short, thro' all the Courts that I have been in, Your Men of Mischief--still are in faul Linen. Did ever one yet dance the ~Tyburn~ Jigg, With a free Air, or a well pawder'd Wig? Did ever Highway-man yet bid you stand, With a sweet bawdy Snuff-Box in his Hand? Ar do you ever find they ask your Purse As Men of Breeding do?----Ladies, Gad's Curse, This Author is a Dag, and 'tis not fit You shou'd allow him e'en one Grain of Wit: To which, that his Pretence may ne'er be nam'd, My humble Motion is----he may be damn'd._ [Illustration] [Illustration] THE PROVOK'D WIFE. A COMEDY. [Illustration] [Illustration] PROLOGUE. Spoken by Mrs. _Bracegirdle_.