University of Virginia Library

Search this document 
  
  
  
  

collapse section1. 
ACT I.
 1. 
 2. 
 3. 
expand section2. 
expand section3. 


9

ACT I.

SCENE I.

A Magnificent Temple finely illuminated, a great Number of Priests, Choristers, &c. Bride-Men, Bride-Maids, &c. &c. Moore and his Lady, Gubbins, Guests, Guards, and other Attendants, &c. &c. &c.
CHORUS.
Triumph Valour, triumph Beauty,
Fortune now has done its Duty.

Recitative.
Moore.
Now to Moore-Hall, my Friends, let's haste away,
To celebrate this happy Nuptial-Day.

Cho.
Triumph, Valour, &c.

[Exeunt.

10

SCENE II.

A Desart.
Mauxalinda
sola.
From Moore, and my too happy Rival flown,
Poor Mauxalinda wanders here alone.
Their Bridal Joys are worse than Death to me.
Alas! how cruel is my Destiny!
AIR.
The Swain I adore has undone me;
He woo'd me until he had won me:
He courted me, sure, but to shun me,
And now from his Arms am I thrown.
Come Death, from Distraction relieve me,
Cold Earth to thy Bosom receive me;
Come thou who so basely could'st leave me,
And shed one kind Tear on my Stone.

[Exit.

SCENE III.

Moore-Hall.
Moore and his Lady, Gubbins, Guests, &c. An Entertainment of Dancing; after which, enter Herald, Pursuivants, &c.
Herald.
Most puissant Moore! Our Sovereign Lord the King
Hearing your Fame, which far and near doth ring,
Sends you this Token of his Royal Bounty,
[Puts on a Golden Helmet.

11

And makes you Lord-Lieutenant of the County:
A Dragon passant guardant is your Arms.
And hearing of your Consort's peerless Charms,
Invites to Court both you and Lady Moore,
Where he has farther Honours yet in store.

Moore.
My kind Love to his Majesty, I pray:
We'll just keep Honey-moon, and then away.

[Exit Herald, &c.
Moore.
How comes it Mauxalinda is not here,
[Surveying the Company.
To grace our Nuptials, and partake our Cheer?

Lady.
Methinks, in Manners, you might longer stay;
Can't you forget her on your Wedding-Day?
Ungrateful,—

Gub.
—Daughter, set your Fears aside,
For Mauxalinda, mad with Rage and Pride;
Has, in a Hurry, pack'd up all her Things,
Her Cloaths, her Money, nay, her three Gold Rings,
And went away this Morning by the Carrier.

Moore.
She's a smart Girl, some Londoner may marry her.

12

AIR.
Thus the Damsel young and pretty,
Quits the Country with Disdain,
Takes a Trip to London City,
Nobler Conquests to obtain.
There she Prudes it so demurely,
And so well displays her Charms,
That some Townling, most securely,
She allures into her Arms.

Lady.
All this is meer Contrivance and Deceit:
With half an Eye I can see through the Cheat.
AIR.
Go, Cuckoldly Cull,
Follow your Trull,
I'm not to be made such a Tool.
Sir Knight, I'm your Wife,
And, during my Life,
Your Worship shall find me no Fool.

Moore.
I'm all Surprize! What means this sudden Change!
'Tis wond'rous odd!

Gub.
—'Tis more than odd, 'tis strange!

Moore.
Speak to her, Sir—

Gub.
—Not I, upon my Life:
'Tis dangerous medling betwixt Man and Wife.

13

AIR.
Agree, agree;
If not, d'ye see,
As you fall out,
Fall in, for me.

Moore.
Why is my dearest Dear so cross to me?
I wou'd not be so to my Margery.

Lady.
It might be Marg'ry Gubbins heretofore;
But now I'll make you know I'm Lady Moore.

[Strutting.
Moore.
Why so thou art:—But yet I hope, my Dear,
[Coaxing.
If thou art Cap, I may be Button here.

Lady.
You think you're Master now; but that won't do,
I tell you, I'll be Cap and Button too.

Moore.
My Anger rises:—Woman, have a care!

Lady.
I scorn your Anger.—Strike me if you dare!
AIR.
You! You! You!
Coxcomb! Blockhead! Numpskull! Nizey!
I defy you! I despise you!
Do! Do! Do!—
[Exit Lady.

Moore.
Are these the Joys of Wedlock! This the Life
A Man must lead with an outrageous Wife?

Gub.
Son! keep your Temper;—Let her have her Way,
Brides know their Power on their Wedding-Day.

14

The Joys they give us wou'd be too compleat,
Did not some Bitter mingle with the Sweet.
This is some female Flight, some jealous Fit.

Moore.
You see, my Friends, how 'tis;—I must submit.
AIR.
So Hercules of old,
The Valiant and the Bold,
Who made the fierce Giants and Monsters to rue,
Was forc'd to rock and reel,
And turn the Spinning-Wheel;
So much cou'd a Woman his Passion subdue.
So Hercules, &c.

[Exit.
Gub.
Farewell, Moore-Hall, thou art no Place for Stay:
O, Friends! this is a dismal Wedding-Day!
Melancholy CHORUS.
Oh sad! oh strange!
Oh doleful Change!
Oh, &c.

[Exeunt Omnes.