Margery ; Or, A Worse Plague than the Dragon A Burlesque Opera |
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| 2. | ACT II. |
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 | Margery ; Or, A Worse Plague than the Dragon |  |
15
ACT II.
SCENE I.
A Desart.Moore
solus.
Farewell, Moore-Hall—I now have broke my Chain,
I never more will darken thee again.
This Woman has a Spirit wou'd scare the Devil;
Tygers and Wolves, compar'd to her, are civil.
Alas! what mighty Deeds have I to brag on?
I'm more afraid of her, than of the Dragon.
Sooner in Desarts with wild Beasts I'll dwell,
Than with that Wife, who makes my Home a Hell.
AIR.
I never more will darken thee again.
This Woman has a Spirit wou'd scare the Devil;
Tygers and Wolves, compar'd to her, are civil.
Alas! what mighty Deeds have I to brag on?
I'm more afraid of her, than of the Dragon.
Sooner in Desarts with wild Beasts I'll dwell,
Than with that Wife, who makes my Home a Hell.
Was ever Man so much deceiv'd?
Can ever Woman be believ'd?
I thought my Love
a Turtle-Dove,
And dream'd of endless Charms;
But now I've got,
O cursed Lot!
A Dragon to my Arms.
Was ever, &c.
Can ever Woman be believ'd?
I thought my Love
a Turtle-Dove,
And dream'd of endless Charms;
But now I've got,
O cursed Lot!
A Dragon to my Arms.
Was ever, &c.
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Cruel Swain!—
[Behind the Scenes.
Moore.
What tender, plaintive Sounds invade my Ear?
Sure Melancholy's self inhabits here:
Approach, sweet Warbler! thou perhaps may'st be
Some easy cred'lous Wretch, deceiv'd like me;
I'll not obstruct, but listen to thy Moan,
Then mingle, with thy soft Complaints, my own.
[Retires to a Corner of the Stage.
Sure Melancholy's self inhabits here:
Approach, sweet Warbler! thou perhaps may'st be
Some easy cred'lous Wretch, deceiv'd like me;
I'll not obstruct, but listen to thy Moan,
Then mingle, with thy soft Complaints, my own.
Enter Mauxalinda.
AIR.
Cruel Swain, since you forsake me,
I'll to lonely Shades betake me,
Like the mournful Turtle-Dove:
I'll to lonely Shades betake me,
Like the mournful Turtle-Dove:
While my Fondness you're disdaining,
Faithful still in soft complaining,
I'll lament my hapless Love.
Cruel Swain, &c.
Faithful still in soft complaining,
I'll lament my hapless Love.
Cruel Swain, &c.
My Mauxalinda! O transporting Sight!
Come to my Arms, thou Treasure of Delight.
[Goes to embrace her, she flies back.
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What new Device is this, to mock my Grief?
Experience now has banish'd all Belief.
Moore.
I own my Crime; O pardon my Offence;
I'm all Confusion, Shame and Penitence.
[Kneeling.
Maux.
O Moore! I lov'd you as I did my Life—
I'd fain believe you, but you've got a Wife.
Moore.
Oh! name her not.—With thee, my Love, I'll fly
Far as the utmost Verge of Earth or Sky:
We'll traverse ev'ry Sea, and ev'ry Shore,
And ne'er approach that hated Object more.
[Maux., Moore.]
DUETTO.
Around the wide World we will wander,
Grow fonder, and fonder, and fonder;
We'll cuddle together,
To keep out the Weather,
And kiss the cold Winter away.
Grow fonder, and fonder, and fonder;
We'll cuddle together,
To keep out the Weather,
And kiss the cold Winter away.
When Sol's sultry Heat does invade us,
Green Osiers and Willows shall shade us.
We'll chirrip and sing
Like Birds in the Spring,
And frolick it all the long Day.
Around, &c.
Green Osiers and Willows shall shade us.
We'll chirrip and sing
Like Birds in the Spring,
And frolick it all the long Day.
Around, &c.
[Exeunt.
18
SCENE II.
Gubbin's House.Gubbins and Guests as from Drinking.
1st Guest.
Thanks, noble Gubbins, for this Night's Repast:—
I think we've fairly made it out at last.
Gub.
But why so hasty, why so soon away?
Another Bottle will bring on the Day.
Enter Lady Moore.
Gub.
What's this I see?—My Daughter!—Say, my Dear!
What brings thee thus unseasonably here?
How could'st thou quit so soon the Bridal Bed?
[Lady sighs
A Sigh too! Tell me, is thy Husband dead?
Lady.
Oh! ten times worse!
Gub.
—How can that be?
Lady.
—He's fled.
Gub.
What! before Consummation?
Lady.
Ay, to my great Vexation.
Gub.
O Daughter, Daughter! if I right conjecture,
He ran away, to 'scape a Curtain-Lecture.
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No, he has Mauxalinda in his Mind:
Now she is gone, he cannot stay behind.
AIR.
Now she is gone, he cannot stay behind.
Wretched is a Wife's Condition,
When not Rage, or yet Submission,
Can reclaim her faithless Rover,
Or to Virtue bring him over.
When not Rage, or yet Submission,
Can reclaim her faithless Rover,
Or to Virtue bring him over.
When she sees her self neglected,
And her Rival more respected,
Oh! how great must be her Anguish!
Who can blame her then to languish.
Wretched, &c.
And her Rival more respected,
Oh! how great must be her Anguish!
Who can blame her then to languish.
Wretched, &c.
Gub.
He's sadly off; for she, like thee, I fear,
May have a Tongue too many for his Ear.
Lady.
Unhappy me! I came to be redrest,
And you, I see, make all my Wrongs your Jest:
But I'll, through all the Courts of Law pursue him;
I'll rumage Hell it self, but I'll undo him:
I'll issue out Reward by Proclamation,
And have him, if he's living in the Nation.
[Exit.
Gub.
Well said, my Girl—thy Mother's Daughter still;
She had a Tongue most exquisitely shrill.
[Horn sounds.
She had a Tongue most exquisitely shrill.
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But hark! the jolly Huntsman's Horn
Gives Notice of approaching Morn:
Let's lose no Moment of Delight,
But hunt all Day, as we have drank all Night.
AIR.Gives Notice of approaching Morn:
Let's lose no Moment of Delight,
But hunt all Day, as we have drank all Night.
Come follow, brave Boys, to the Chace,
For Morning breaks on us apace;
The Fogs and the Mist disappear,
The Dawn is delightfully clear.
For Morning breaks on us apace;
The Fogs and the Mist disappear,
The Dawn is delightfully clear.
The Hounds are uncoupled, then hast and away,
You'll lose all the Sport, if you longer delay.
What, what are your Opera's to me,
But Tweedlecum-Tweedlecum-twee:
No Musick, that's under the Sky,
Can equal the Hounds at full Cry.
Then a Fig for Italians, their Squeak and their Squawl,
One true English Sportsman shall dumb-found 'em all.
You'll lose all the Sport, if you longer delay.
What, what are your Opera's to me,
But Tweedlecum-Tweedlecum-twee:
No Musick, that's under the Sky,
Can equal the Hounds at full Cry.
Then a Fig for Italians, their Squeak and their Squawl,
One true English Sportsman shall dumb-found 'em all.
Omnes, Hiddow, &c.
[Exeunt
21
SCENE III.
The Desart.Moore and Mauxalinda embracing.
DUETTO.
Maux.
Moore.
Enter Lady Moore with Constable, Guards,
&c. and surprizes 'em.
Maux.
By these Arms, that round thee twine
Like the ever-circling Vine:
By this tender fond Embrace,
Nothing shall my Love efface.
Like the ever-circling Vine:
By this tender fond Embrace,
Nothing shall my Love efface.
Moore.
By the Nectar, which I sip
From thy soft and ruby Lip,
Never, never will I leave thee,
Never, never more deceive thee.
From thy soft and ruby Lip,
Never, never will I leave thee,
Never, never more deceive thee.
Lady.
So, so, my pretty Turtles, are you there—
I've caught you napping, as Moss caught his Mare.
Sir, that's your Prisoner—
[To Constable.
Now, my Lady Stock,
[To Maux.
You shall mill Dolley at the Hempen-Block.
[Mauxalinda is carried off; Moore strives to follow, but is prevented by his Lady.
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I'll teach you to run rambling after Beauty.
DUETTO.
Lady.
O ungrateful! to deceive me,
Thus to rob me of Content.
Moore.
O most hateful! leave me, leave me,
You my Anger but augment.
Lady.
Faithless Traytor!
Moore.
Plague of Nature!
Lady.
Where's your Conscience?
Moore.
Curse your Nonsense!se!
Let me go, Let me go.
[Struggling.
Lady.
No, no, no; No, no, no.
O ungrateful, &c.
[Exeunt.
| Margery ; Or, A Worse Plague than the Dragon | |