_Man._ Whatever I may want, Madam, you will always find endeavours to deserve you. Lord _Town._ Then all are happy. Lady _Town._ Sister! I give you joy! consummate as the happiest pair can boast. In you methinks, as in a glass, I see The happiness that once advanc'd to me. So visible the bliss, so plain the way, How was it possible my sense could stray? But now, a convert, to this truth, I come, That married happiness is never found from home. EPILOGUE, Spoken by Mrs. +OLDFIELD+. _Methinks I hear some powder'd Critics say, "Damn it! this Wife Reform'd has spoil'd the play! The coxcomb should have drawn her more in fashion, } Have gratify'd her softer inclination, } Have tipt her a gallant, and clinch'd the provocation." } But there our Bard stopt short: for 'twere uncivil T' have made a modern ~Belle~ all o'er a Devil! He hop'd, in honour of the sex, the age Would bear one mended woman----on the stage._ _From whence, you see by common sense's rules, Wives might be govern'd, were not husbands fools. Whate'er by Nature dames are prone to do, They seldom stray but when they govern you. When the wild wife perceives her deary tame, No wonder then she plays him all the game. But men of sense meet rarely that disaster; Women take pride, where merit is their master: Nay, she that with a weak man wisely lives, Will seem t' obey the due commands he gives! Happy obedience is no more a wonder, When men are men, and keep them kindly under. But modern consorts are such high-bred creatures, They think a husband's power degrades their features; That nothing more proclaims a reigning beauty, Than that she never was reproach'd with duty; And that the greatest blessing Heav'n e'er sent, Is in a spouse, incurious and content. To give such dames a diff'rent cast of thought, By calling home the mind, these scenes were wrought. If with a hand too rude, the task is done, We hope the scheme by Lady ~Grace~ laid down, Will all such freedom with the sex atone. That virtue there unsoil'd, by modish art, Throw out attractions for a ~Manly~'s heart._ _You, you, then Ladies, whose unquestion'd lives Give you the foremost fame of happy wives, Protect, for its attempt, this helpless play; Nor leave it to the vulgar taste a prey; Appear the frequent champions of its cause, Direct the crowd and give yourselves applause._ _Sung by Mrs. ~=Cibber=~, in the Fourth Act._ The Words by =Mr. Carey=.