 | Psyche Debauch'd |  |
Scene III.
Enter Payers with Beaters on thyir shoulders, and their Master with his measuring Rod.SONG.
And skin the hard Flint for good Liquor:
Let love to the Idle, and wealthy begone,
And let Preaching alone to the Vicar;
Let all be made plain, with your Strikers and Thumpers,
And when your works done, we'l about with the Bumpers.
Makes all that adore him grow lazy,
For counterfeit blessings he long makes you wait,
And with sighs and diseases he pays ye.
But he you serve now, with your Strikers and Thumpers,
When the work's done, will about with the Bumpers.
1. Pav.
The Walks are all gravell'd, and the Bower shall
be prepar'd for the Bear and Nonsey.
2. Pa.
But e'r wego in, let the Drinking begin,
And then we will Thump it agen.
Chorus.
With full double Pots,
Let us liquor our throats.
And then we'l to work with a hoh, ho, ho,
But let's drink e'r we go, let's drink e'r we go.
Mast.
Then toss up your liquor, and to labour make hast,
The time is too precious to wast.
—With full double, &c.
1. Pav.
Here Harry.—
2. Pav.
Here Will.
3. Pav.
Old True-penny still.
All.
While one is drinking, another should fill,
Pa.
Here's to thee Peter,—
4.
Thanks honest Phil.
All.
Lets lustily swill, and while one is drinking, another
should sill.
Chorus.
—With full double, &c.
Master.
Dispatch, or the Bear, or the Princess will chide,
For Love can no hindrance abide.
Pa.
There's more need of drinking, drinking, then kissing
by ods.
Chorus.
—With full double, &c.
A Dance, and all run off.
Enter Bruin and Jeffry.
Bru.
Brave Boys all, 'tis as well done as if I had chalk
out the way my self; and it had been doing 16 whole Months,
by the excellent approved, great most Famous, Ingenious,
Industrious, careful Society of More-fields; Well Geffery, what
dost think of my Missy None-so-fair!
Jeffry.
Think! Oh she's the delicat'st, but of Mans meat
that e'r lips were laid to, or legs laid over; she's an Armfull
for one of the Gods, for Jupiter himself in his Altitudes.
Bru.
In his Altitudes—what's that?
Jeffry.
Why that's drunk as David's Sow, with Nector and
Ambrosia, which is stout Mum, and Brandy; the Gods
drink upon Holy-dayes, But Sir, is not None-so-fair a little
soft childish, no wiser then she should be?
Bru.
I thought thou hadst known better; all cunning Amorous
Women, put on a modish seeming Innocent Ignorance,
that they may have pleasure without loss of reputation,
'tis a modest way of wooing, and as pleasant to the
hearers, as great lyes ingeniously made, and seriously told,
taking.
Jeffry.
Therefore, young Gallants are so much pleased
with being like Gentlemen; and the total of all the praise,
they would give a Friend, ends in.—Gad, in short he's
much like a Gentleman; the Divel take me, much like a
Gentleman?—
Bru.
Ay! that is, he Swears, Drinks, Games, and Whores,
which are no more the true accomplishments of a right
Gentleman; then Huffing, and speaking loud Nonsence, are
of the Gods, whatever our Friends, the Fopps, and the
Poets, which are much like one another, say to the contrary.—
Jeffry.
Apollo, the wishing Chair told me.—
Bru.
Pox take that liquorish Rogue, he has been beforehand,
he'l have a hand in every sack,—what did he say?
Jeffry.
When he kiss'd her, she cry'd Oh laud! why do 'e
kiss a body so, I'le tell my Father, so I will.—
Bru.
Ay, and thrust out her lips as 'twere to push him away,
when 'twas only to kiss closer?—
Jeffry.
And when he talked a little,—I do'nt know howish,
you know of that same,—she look'd so wistly, and Innocently
in his face.
Bru.
As Ignorant People do on one that speaks a Forreign
Language.—
Jeffry.
Ay, and repeated ev'ry strange word so harmlessly,
and cry'd what's that now?
Bru.
And was as curiously inquisitive, as if she were learning
a new stitch on her Sampler.—
Jeffry.
And look'd with such Religious Languishing Eyes.
Bru.
Religious Languishing Eyes?
Jeffry.
Ay, as if she were at Prayers.
Bru.
Thou incorrigible Fool—If a Woman looks so,
though in the Church; thou maist swear her thoughts are in
the very Altitudes of Love—Her heart's drunk with it, and
her eyes reel, and are dazl'd her dying Eyes, think thy self into
an Amorous extasie, and I'le tell thee how thou lookst.
Jeffry.
Gad, and so I will.
Now, now, now, there's your Religious, languishing,
drunken, dying Eyes.
Jeffry.
Oh, oh, aha.—
Bru.
There's your Anchovies, as Prince Phillip says.
Jeffry.
I'le swear 'tis very pretty, but why won't you appear
to her like a Gentleman?—
Bru.
No, no, when she sees me in this invisible shape,
like a Prince, she'l think I'm a God, and will make her a
Lady. When love thus storms a Fort, and enters by force,
he plunders freely, and imposes what conditions he will; but
when he comes sneaking, and creeping like a Boy after a
Butterfly, Ten to one but she flies off, and he falls into the
next Ditch; for where love is in motion, like Water thrown
on the ground: 'twill fall into the first hollow place it finds.
Take care that none disturb our Play;
'Twill be your own another day.
Exeunt Bruin and Jeffry several ways.
| Psyche Debauch'd | |