Dam. Now I fhall measure, by their hopes, my own.

Cim.

SCENE XI.

To her Cimon, finging.

AIR X.

Behold, and fee thy wounded lover!

Whose truth from thee will ne'er depart!
O let my tears at length discover

One gentle fmile, to heal my heart.

Phill. Were in the world no man but Cimon,
None of the female kind but I;

With me should end the name of woman,
With thee the race of men fhould die.

Cim. O cruel found! falfe-hearted Phillida!
Didft thou not say, thou lov'ft me better than
My brother Mopfus?

Phill.

Yes; but 'twas,

As of two evils I would choose the leaft;

Stay till I'm bound to choofe, and then reproach me. Thy crying makes me laugh; his laughing makes There's all the hopeful difference.

Me fleep.

AIR XI.

Phillida flouts me.

Cim. O what a plague is love!

I cannot bear it :

What life fo curft can prove,

Or pain come near it!
When I would tell my mind,
My heart misdoubts me;
Or when I fpeak, I find
With fcorn fhe routs me.

In vain is all I say,

Her answer ftill is

nay:

O difmal, doleful day!

Phillida flouts me.

Enter Mopfus finging.

AIR XII. One long Whitfun Holiday.

Mop. Ah, poor Cimon! dud a cry!

Well-a-day! wipe an eye! O fy, Phillida!

VOL. V.

Y

Το

To treat him fo fcornfully,
Shamefully, mournfully;
Phillida, fy!

Phill. No, no, Sir Pert and Dull!

Simpleton, Paperfkull! I for ever shall
Think thee far the greater fool:

Therefore will give thee cause

With him to cry.

Cim. Toll, loll, loll, doll!

Now, I pray,

Who has cause most to cry, ah! well-a-day?

Mop. What care I! why, let her fcoff,

Cim.

I can laugh; play her off, better than you.
Ah, poor Mopfus, thou'rt a fool!

Mcp. I fay you're a greater owl.

Cim.

Nay, now I'm fure that's a lie.

Mop. What's a lie?

Cim.

That's a lie!

Mop. I fay, 'tis true.

AIR XIII. Cruel, cruel, tyrannizing.

Phill. Give over your love, you great loobies,
I hate you both; you, Sir, and you too:
Did ever a brace of fuch boobies,

Mop. Phill.

Cim.

The lafs that detefts them pursue?

How!

Go!

Oh! I'm ready to faint?
How are you?

Mop. Why, truly, fhe treats us but fo, fo.
For my part, I think fhe's a devil.
A woman would fcorn for to do so.

Cim.

(To Mopfus.

O fy, fy! fuch words are uncivil. Phill. Prepare, then, to hear my last fentence. Before I'd wad either, much rather I'd ftand on the flool of repentance, And want for my bantling a father. Go!-

Cim. Мор.

I dare not

-Let me come! Phaw waw, man,
She only has water'd a nettle.

In fhort, this won't do, Mrs Vixen !

For one of us two you must now choose. Phill. Then you are the man that I fix on; are the fool I refuse.

And you

(Strikes each a box on the ear.

and Go! The Devil would fly fuch a spouse. Mop.

Phill. If there's a joy comes near recovering those We love, fure 'tis to filence those we hate.

When Cimon and Mopfus are gone, Damon prefents himself to Phillida finging.

Dam.

Phill.

Dam.

Phill.

AIR XIV. Dutch Skipper.

See! behold, and fee;

With an eye kind and relenting,
Damon now repenting,
Only true to thee;

Content to love, and love for life.

If

you, now fincere,

With an honeft declaration

Mean to prove your passion,
To the purpose swear,

And make, at once, a maid a wife.

Thus for life I take thee,

Never to forfake thee.

Soon or late,

I find our fate,

To hearts aftray,

Directs the

way,

And brings, to lafting joys, the rover home.

Ever kind and tender,

Conquer'd, I furrender :

Prove but true,

As I to you,
Y 2

Each

Each kindling kiss

Shall add a blifs,

That only from the conftant lip can move.
AIR XV. Second Part of the Dutch Skipper.

Dam. To the priest away, to bind our vows,
With our hands and hearts united.
Phill. To reduce the rover to lawful fpoufe,
Is a triumph my heart has delighted..
If I never could fix,

Dam.

Both.

'Twas the fault of the fex
Who eafily yielding, were easy to cloy
But in love we ftill find,

When the heart's well inclin'd,
In one, only one, is the joy.

But in love, &c.

PROLOGUE,

WRITTEN and SPOKEN by MR GARRICK,

In the Character of a DRUNKEN POET.

ALL, all fall out-all that I know and feel;

I will, by Heav'n-to higher powers appeal!→ Behold a Bard!-no author of to-night

No, no, they can't say that, with all their fpite:

Ay, you may frown (looking behind the scenes) I'm at you, great and fmall

Your Poet, Players, Managers and all!-

Thefe fools within here, fwear that I'm in liquor,

My paffion warms me-makes my utt'rance thicker;

I totter too-but that's the gout and pain,

French wines, and living high, have been my bane.--
From all temptations now, I wifely iteer me;
Nor will I fuffer one fine woman near me.