How we shall please ye now I cannot say; But, Sirs, ‘Faith here is _News from Rome_ to day; Yet know withal, we’ve no such PACKETS here, As you read once a week from Monkey CARE. But ‘stead of that Lewd Stuff (that cloys the Nation) Plain Love and Honour; (tho quite out of Fashion;) Ours is a Virgin ROME, long, long, before Pious GENEVA Rhetorick call’d her Whore; For be it known to their Eternal Shames, Those Saints were always good at calling Names; Of _Scarlet Whores_ let ‘em their Wills devise, But let ‘em raise no other _Scarlet Lies_; LIES that advance the _Good Old Cause_, and bring Into Contempt the PRELATES with the KING. Why shou’d the _Rebel Party_ be affraid? They’re _Ratts_ and _Weazles_ gnaw the _Lyon’s_ Beard, And then in IGNORAMUS Holes they think, Like other Vermin, to lie close, and stink. What have ye got, ye _Conscientious Knaves_, With all your _Fancy’d Power_, and _Bully Braves_? With all your standing to’t; your _Zealous Furies_; Your _Lawless Tongues_, and _Arbitrary Juries_? Your _Burlesque Oaths_, when one _Green-Ribbon-Brother_ In Conscience will be _Perjur’d for another_? Your PLOTS, _Cabals_, your _Treats_, _Association_, Ye shame, ye very Nusance of the Nation, What have ye got but one poor Word? Such Tools Were _Knaves_ before; to which you’ve added _Fools_. Now I dare swear, some of you _Whigsters_ say, _Come on, now for a swinging_ TORY PLAY. But, Noble _Whigs_, pray let not those _Fears_ start ye, Nor fright hence any of the _Sham Sheriff’s Party_; For, if you’ll take my censure of the Story, } It is as harmless as e’re came before ye, } And writ before the times of _Whig_ and _Tory_. } EPILOGUE _to the Same_. _Spoken by the Lady_ SLINGSBY.