Epilogue to "The Assignation; or, Love in a Nunnery"

Some have expected from our bills to-day,
To find a satire in our poet's play.
The zealous rout from Coleman Street did run,
To see the story of the Friar and Nun;
Or tales, yet more ridiculous to hear,
Vouch'd by their vicar of ten pounds a year:
Of nuns who did against temptation pray,
And discipline laid on the pleasant way;
Or that, to please the malice of the town,
Our poet should in some close cell have shown
Some sister, playing at content alone.
This they did hope; the other side did fear;
And both you see alike are cozen'd here.
Some thought the title of our play to blame:
They lik'd the thing, but yet abhorr'd the name;
Like modest punks, who all you ask afford,
But, for the world, they would not name that word.
Yet, if you 'll credit what I heard him say,
Our poet meant no scandal in his play;
His nuns are good, which on the stage are shown,
And, sure, behind our scenes you 'll look for none.