SPOKEN BY MRS. BRACEGIRDLE IN MEN'S CLOTHES .

I who have been the poet's spark to-day,
Will now become the champion of his play.
Know all, who would pretend to my good grace,
I mortally dislike a damning face.
Pleas'd or displeas'd, no matter, now 't is past,
The first who dares be angry breathes his last:
Who shall presume to doubt my will and pleasure,
Him I defy to send his weapon's measure.
If war you chuse, and blood must needs be spilt here,
By Jove! let me alone to match your tilter;
I'll give you satisfaction if I can:
'Sdeath! 't is not the first time I've kill'd my man.
On pain of being posted to your sorrow,
Fail not at four, to meet me here to-morrow.