KISSES.
Hawser.
Dear Susan, one kind kiss before we part.
Susan.
Not the thousandth part of one, Mr.
Lieutenant, I assure you. Keep your distance,
pray, kind sir. Kisses indeeed! I wonder what
fool first invented the nonsense?
Hawser.
Nonsense!—sense, Susan! rapture, Susan!
SONG.
When we dwell on the lips of the lass we adore,
Not a pleasure in nature is missing:
May his soul be in Heav'n, he deserv'd it, I'm sure,
Who was first the inventor of kissing.
Master Adam, I verily think, was the man,
Whose discovery will ne'er be surpast:
Well, since the sweet game with creation began,
To the end of the world may it last!
[Catches Susan and kisses her.
