 | Margery ; Or, A Worse Plague than the Dragon |  |
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.
19
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
| Margery ; Or, A Worse Plague than the Dragon | |