 | Poor Vulcan |  |
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SCENE III.
A Gallery of Bed-Chambers.Enter Maudlin.
‘To elope, or not to elope's the question!
‘Whether from Crump each base suggestion
‘'Tis nobler in the mind to suffer,
‘Or to rob every trunk and coffer,
‘And flying with my lover end 'em.
‘To fly—to love—no more—we'll blend 'em,
‘And by that love to shake off fellows,
‘And wayward husbands who are jealous,
‘Who give one every provocation—
‘Alas! it were a consummation
‘Devoutly to be wish'd, above
‘All other blessings far—To love!
‘Perchance to tire!—Ay, there's the rule!
‘For in that tiring, how he'll snub,
‘When I grow old, and perhaps fat,
‘For women will grow old—'tis that,
‘'Tis that, alas! must give us pause:
‘But soft ye now—how goes the cause?’
Enter Grace.
GRACE.
Your orders are obey'd.
MAUDLIN.
—Already?
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I told the 'squire—
MAUDLIN.
—Well, and what said he?
GRACE.
Why, Ma'am, he said, he'd shortly follow,
And give his Maudlin the view-hollow.
MAUDLIN.
And pray, what news from Serjeant Bluff?
GRACE.
When I had spoke, cries he—Enough;
The signal is thy lady's charms,
And I'll be instant under arms!
But now, good mistress of mine,
If I may ask, What's your design?
When you're gone off, (Lord, who can tell!)
My master may like me as well.
MAUDLIN.
Take him; thou'rt welcome, I am sure.
GRACE.
Well, dearest me! that will be pure!
AIR.
[I.]
To shine in the bar, all drawn out in my best!To be told I am handsome by every guest!
To be civil to all, and yet listen to none!
And when making a bill out, to score two for one!
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And if told of the error, though ever so small,
Break off with—Dear me! did not somebody call?
Lord bless me, where are all my people hum-drumming!
I must e'en go myself—Coming, coming, Sir, coming.
Break off with—Dear me! did not somebody call?
Lord bless me, where are all my people hum-drumming!
I must e'en go myself—Coming, coming, Sir, coming.
II.
When a company comes in, on venison to dine,Be sure after dinner to set the best wine:
But when they, once in for't, begin to be merry,
Instead of Champagne, send up cyder or perry.
And if told of the error, &c.
‘III.
‘Say, you'll get a good supper, when trav'lers arrive,‘Though your fish is not catch'd, and your fowls are alive,
‘And you've nought in the larder, but mutton that's
‘For their appetite's good, and 'twill do them no harm.
‘And if told of the error, &c.’
IV.
In short, with a pattern like you for my guide,I shall score well, and cater, and store, and provide,
Taking care still to put something by on the shelf,
Give my master one half, and take t'other myself.
And if told of the error, &c.’
[Exit.
RECITATIVE.
MAUDLIN.
The wench will do, I see—But hark,
What noise is that!—The Squire i'th'dark.
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‘MAUDLIN.
‘You'll think me, 'Squire, a forward creature,
STUD.
‘May Dapple throw me, but each feature
‘Sparles like the morning dew.
‘MAUDLIN.
‘I never saw the like of you,
‘So kind—
‘STUD.
‘—Dear Ma'am!
‘MAUDLIN.
‘—So complimenting!
‘Really I am half consenting.
‘STUD.
The music of a pack of hounds,
‘Was ne'er so sweet as those dear sounds.
‘But come, we have no time to spare:
‘Where must I go?
‘MAUDLIN.
‘—In there, in there;
‘But for thy life, no noise, I pr'ythee;
‘In twenty minutes I'll be wi'thee.
‘But, should you first betray, then hate—
‘STUD.
‘May I ne'er leap a five-barr'd gate,
‘If ever I'll be so affronting!
‘It is in love as 'tis in hunting.
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‘No babbler be, if you would push
‘Your fortune with the fair;
‘Those who the loudest beat the bush
‘But seldom start the hare.
‘Your fortune with the fair;
‘Those who the loudest beat the bush
‘But seldom start the hare.
‘Silent as a hound at fault,
‘Or badger kept at bay,
‘Or mistress puss, whom we have sought,
‘And who has stolen away;
‘Thus to your secret I'll be true,
‘Nor e'er start thought shall injure you.
‘No babbler, &c.
‘Or badger kept at bay,
‘Or mistress puss, whom we have sought,
‘And who has stolen away;
‘Thus to your secret I'll be true,
‘Nor e'er start thought shall injure you.
‘No babbler, &c.
‘A dog you've seen, when for the scent
‘He snuffs the pregnant air,
‘So still, so buried, so intent,
‘He's fix'd and rooted there,
‘Thus to your secret I'll be true,
‘Nor e'er start thought shall injure you.
‘No babbler, &c.
‘He snuffs the pregnant air,
‘So still, so buried, so intent,
‘He's fix'd and rooted there,
‘Thus to your secret I'll be true,
‘Nor e'er start thought shall injure you.
‘No babbler, &c.
[Exit.
Enter Serjeant Pike.
RECITATIVE.
PIKE.
Ha! my divinity, art thou there!
‘Never was Venus half so fair;
‘Nay, look not on me, lest I die?’
Thousands of loves my hearts ensnare;
‘Their darts twang through my very marrow,
‘And every twinkle is an arrow:’
In short, like Sweden's king at Bender,
O'ercome by numbers, I surrender.
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Well, get you into number seven—
But you'll be true.
PIKE.
—I will, by heaven!
MAUDLIN.
Do you then love to that degree?
PIKE.
I'd hang! I'd drown! I'd starve for thee!
Count all the shot that fly in battle;
Count all the strokes on drums that rattle;
Count every flash; count every pop;
Count all the groans, the wounds!—Stay, stop;
Count!—Damme, I've no more by heart!
I say, Ma'am, metaphor apart,
I love you more than life, believe me.
MAUDLIN.
And will you, Serjeant, ne'er deceive me?
AIR.
PIKE.
[I.]
Madam, you know, my trade is war;And what should I deny it for?
Whene'er the trumpet sounds from far,
I long to hack and hew;
Yet, Madam, credit what I say,
Were I this moment call'd away,
Were all the troops drawn in array,
I'd rather stay with you.
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II.
Did drums and sprightly trumpets sound,And death and carnage stalk around;
Did dying horses bite the ground,
And we no hope in view;
Was the whole army lost in smoke,
Were they the last words that I spoke,
I'd say, and damme if I joke,
I'd rather stay with you.
III.
Did the foe charge us front and rear;Did ev'n the bravest face appear
Impress'd with signs of mortal fear;
Though never veteran knew
So terrible and hot a fight;
Though all my laurels it should blight,
Though I should lose so fine a sight,
I'd rather stay with you.
[Exit.
Enter Joe.
RECITATIVE.
MAUDLIN.
Now stir not for your life!—So, so—
What noise is that? 'Tis my sweet Joe.
Make, dearest love, what haste you're able,
And take two horses from the stable.
This key, I fancy, will unlock it,
And I've some money in my pocket.
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JOE.
[I.]
What are Plutus' gilded toys,What, compar'd to Love's rich joys!
Toys that wordly mortals prize,
Souls of finer sense despise;
Free together let us rove,
Heart for heart, and love for love.
II.
Free from tumult, frowns and strife,Free from all that burthens life,
Blythely let us seek the plains
Where eternal pleasure reigns;
Free together let us rove,
Heart for heart, and love for love.
[Exeunt.
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