 | Thomas and Sally : or, The Sailor's Return |  |
SALLY.
RECITATIVE.
Ah! whither have my heedless steps betray'd?
'SQUIRE.
Where wou'd you fly? of whom are you afraid?
Here's neither spectre, ghost, nor goblin nigh,
Nor any one—but Cupid, you, and I.
SALLY.
Unlucky!
'SQUIRE.
'Sdeath! she sets me all on fire:
Bewitching wench! I languish with desire.
But wherefore do you shrink, and trembling stand,
So coy, so silly?
SALLY.
Pray, Sir, loose my hand.
'SQUIRE.
AIR.
SALLY.
RECITATIVE.
Sir, you demean yourself, and, to be free,
Some lady you should chuse of fit degree:
I am too low, too vulgar—
'SQUIRE.
Rather say,
There's some more favour'd rival in the way:
Some happy sweetheart in your thoughts takes place;
For him you keep your favours; that's the case.
SALLY.
Well if it be, 'tis neither shame, nor sin;
An honest lad he is, of honest kin:
No higher than my equal I pretend:
You have your answer, Sir, and there's an end.
'SQUIRE.
AIR.
Come, come, my dear girl, I must not be deny'd;
Fine cloathes you shall flash in, and rant it away:
I'll give you this purse too, and heark you beside,
We'll kiss and we'll toy all the long summer's day.
SALLY.
Of kissing and toying you soon would be tir'd,
Oh should hapless Sally consent to be naught!
Besides, Sir, believe me, I scorn to be hir'd;
The heart's not worth gaining which is to be bought.
'SQUIRE.
Perhaps you're afraid of the world's busy tongue,
But know, above scandal you then shall be put;
And laugh, as you roll in your chariot along,
At draggle-tail chastity walking a foot.
SALLY.
If only thro' fear of the world I was shy,
My coyness, and modesty were but ill shown;
Its pardon 'twere easy with money to buy,
But how, tell me how, I shou'd purchase my own.
'SQUIRE.
Leave morals to grey-beards, those lips were design'd
For better employment.
SALLY.
I'll not be a whore.
'SQUIRE.
Oh fye, child! love bids you be rich, and be kind;
SALLY.
But virtue commands me, be honest and poor.
RECITATIVE.
Ah! whither have my heedless steps betray'd?
'SQUIRE.
Where wou'd you fly? of whom are you afraid?
Here's neither spectre, ghost, nor goblin nigh,
Nor any one—but Cupid, you, and I.
SALLY.
Unlucky!
'SQUIRE.
'Sdeath! she sets me all on fire:
Bewitching wench! I languish with desire.
But wherefore do you shrink, and trembling stand,
So coy, so silly?
SALLY.
Pray, Sir, loose my hand.
10
AIR.
When late I wander'd o'er the plain,
From nymph, to nymph, I strove in vain,
My wild desires to rally;
But now they're of themselves come home,
And, strange! no longer seek to roam:
They centre all in Sally.
From nymph, to nymph, I strove in vain,
My wild desires to rally;
But now they're of themselves come home,
And, strange! no longer seek to roam:
They centre all in Sally.
Yet she, unkind one, damps my joy,
And cries I court but to destroy:
Can love with ruin tally?
By those dear lips, those eyes, I swear,
I would all deaths, all torments bear,
Rather than injure Sally.
And cries I court but to destroy:
Can love with ruin tally?
By those dear lips, those eyes, I swear,
I would all deaths, all torments bear,
Rather than injure Sally.
Come then, Oh come, thou sweeter far!
Than jessamine and roses are,
Or lillies of the valley;
O follow, love, and quit your fear,
He'll guide you to these arms, my dear,
And make me blest in Sally.
Than jessamine and roses are,
Or lillies of the valley;
O follow, love, and quit your fear,
He'll guide you to these arms, my dear,
And make me blest in Sally.
11
RECITATIVE.
Sir, you demean yourself, and, to be free,
Some lady you should chuse of fit degree:
I am too low, too vulgar—
'SQUIRE.
Rather say,
There's some more favour'd rival in the way:
Some happy sweetheart in your thoughts takes place;
For him you keep your favours; that's the case.
SALLY.
Well if it be, 'tis neither shame, nor sin;
An honest lad he is, of honest kin:
No higher than my equal I pretend:
You have your answer, Sir, and there's an end.
'SQUIRE.
AIR.
Come, come, my dear girl, I must not be deny'd;
Fine cloathes you shall flash in, and rant it away:
I'll give you this purse too, and heark you beside,
We'll kiss and we'll toy all the long summer's day.
12
Of kissing and toying you soon would be tir'd,
Oh should hapless Sally consent to be naught!
Besides, Sir, believe me, I scorn to be hir'd;
The heart's not worth gaining which is to be bought.
'SQUIRE.
Perhaps you're afraid of the world's busy tongue,
But know, above scandal you then shall be put;
And laugh, as you roll in your chariot along,
At draggle-tail chastity walking a foot.
SALLY.
If only thro' fear of the world I was shy,
My coyness, and modesty were but ill shown;
Its pardon 'twere easy with money to buy,
But how, tell me how, I shou'd purchase my own.
'SQUIRE.
Leave morals to grey-beards, those lips were design'd
For better employment.
13
I'll not be a whore.
'SQUIRE.
Oh fye, child! love bids you be rich, and be kind;
SALLY.
But virtue commands me, be honest and poor.
| Thomas and Sally : or, The Sailor's Return | |