EPILOGUE To the COMEDY called A FRIEND in NEED is a FRIEND INDEED! Spoken by Mrs. BULKLEY. July, 1783

Woman, of all who feel the Hour of Need, Wants most, most rarely finds, a Friend Indeed; Doom'd in each sex, alas! by turns to prove False, hollow Friendship, and insidious Love. Hogarth, on whom, sweet Humour's darling child At once Minerva and Thalia smil'd; Whose pencil'd satire Vice and Folly smote, Who many a Comedy on canvas wrote; With coat tuck'd up, straw hat, and linen gown, Draws honest Marg'ry just arriv'd in town: With ruddy health and innocence she glows, Fresh as the morn, and blooming like the rose: In the inn-yard, a Hag, who ready stands, Lays on the harmless maid, her harpy hands; Too well the Beldam knows the treach'rous art, To tempt, and to corrupt the female heart; Too soon to ruin she decoys her prey, " Then casts her, like a loathsome weed, away."

" Pooh! pooh! (cries Citpup) this is all a lie! " Poets and Painters will make free—Oh fie! " Poor souls! they love to bounce, and think they railly; " Nothing but Truth and Honour in 'Change-Alley! " Plump Marg'ry at a monstrous Premium went— " Prodigious interest—almost Cent per Cent. " I found her poor, not blest with Half a Crown; " Stampt her my own, and brought her upon Town— " Made her as fine as hands, or gold, could make her— " Built her a Coach—a grand one!—in Long-Acre! " Marg'ry's good fortunes all on me depend; " I ruin'd her—and am her only Friend."

Happy the high-born fair, whose ample dower, Pours in her wealthy lap a Golden Shower! While many a friend, sincere no doubt, surrounds Her thousand charms—and hundred thousand pounds: But she, who pines in want, whose early bloom Deceit would canker, or Distress consume, Let jealous fears her ev'ry step attend, And mark the Flatterer, from the real Friend! He, who with gold would bribe her into vice, Buys but her Honour at a dearer price: Not generous, but prodigal and vain; A Bosom Traitor! cruel, not humane! But He, whose virtuous hand her wants supplies, And wipes the tears of Anguish from her eyes; Who rears, o'ercharg'd with grief, her drooping head, And summons Hymen to the genial bed; Let Love and Gratitude his merits plead, And lodge him in her heart, a Friend indeed!