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The Shepherds Lottery

A Musical Entertainment
  
  

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PART II.
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2. PART II.

SCENE I.

Daphne, Dorylas.
Dorylas.
Recit.
Sweet Nymph, this Token of my Love receive,
Tho' mean's the Present that a Swain can give;
Yet should a Smile the trifling Gift repay,
My Heart will dance with Pleasure all the Day.

Daphne.
I take the Crook in Earnest of your Love;
At Eight, precisely, in the Chesnut Grove;
To Faunus' Spring, good Dorylas, repair,
'Tis very likely—my warm Blushes spare,
'Tis very likely— [Aside.]
I shall not be there.


Dorylas.
Thrice happy Dorylas! kind Maid, Adieu;
At Eight, precisely, I'll my Suit renew.
[_]

This lyric was originally placed at the end of the play

[_]

This Song is sung by Dorylas, in the First Scene of the Second Part, after the Words—At Eight, precisely, I'll my Suit renew; and was by mistake omitted.


AIR.
How happy's the Lover whose Cares are no more;
Who bids an Adieu to all Sorrow!
My Griefs are all husht, and my Torments are o'er,
For I shall be happy to-morrow.
Each flow'ret of Spring that enamels the Ground,
From you ev'ry Charm seems to borrow;
Then who will so blest or so happy be found,
As I with my Daphne to-morrow.
I never am happy but when in your Sight;
Your Smiles are the Cure of all Sorrow:
Remember, dear Daphne, your Promise to-night;
And I shall be happy to-morrow.

[Exit.

15

SCENE II.

Daphne.
Farewel, deluded Swain, if Smiles can gain
Such pretty Presents, I'll ne'er frown again.
AIR.
As soon hope for Peace 'twixt the Hawk and the Dove,
As to find it with Woman and Man;
Or prompted by Hate, or incited by Love,
They both will deceive when they can.
The Shepherd, forgetful of Oaths and of Vows,
Will run to a Face that's more new;
And often the Women, or Maiden or Spouse,
The very same Method pursue.
The Youth to obtain the dear Nymph he admires,
By Falshood expresses his Flame:
To gain the lov'd Boy who her Bosom inspires;
Does not Cloe exactly the same?
How just's the Division? Man's born to persuade;
We listen, and think him sincere:
But then, has not Nature been kind to the Maid?
She gave her the Smile and the Tear.

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Intrepid as Heroes, Men snatch at their Joy,
And force us by Storm to comply:
We, helpless poor Creatures, by Fashion made coy,
Consent when we feebly deny.
Like Armies drawn out into martial Array,
The Sexes call forth all their Pow'rs;
And if for the Men goes the Battle to-day,
To-morrow the Triumph is ours.
Recit.
But see, young Colin casts this way his Look,
Perhaps he means to bring another Crook.
Fain would I force him to receive my Yoke,
And own that Cupid's Laws are more than Joke.

SCENE III.

To her Colin.
Colin.
Sweet Lady, tell me: Did you see this way
Two milk-white Lambs with rosy Collars stray?

Daphne.
No, gentle Youth: But pr'ythee tell me, why
You greet a Village Maid in Terms so high?
I am no Lady, courteous Swain, not I.

Colin.
Since you my lov'd Companions have not seen,
Perhaps they've wander'd to yon distant Green:
I'll see.—


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Daphne.
[Aside.]
Stay, Shepherd, stay—Was ever such a stupid Swain!
He seems to eye me with a cold Disdain.
[To him.]
Some time, methinks with Colin I could waste.

Colin.
Dispatch then, quickly; I'm, in truth, in haste.

AIR.
Daphne.
Has the Arrow of Cupid ne'er lodg'd in your Breast?
Have you wept for whole Months, nor been able to rest,
'Till the Fair One took pity, and bid you be bless'd?
Speak boldly the Truth, my good Shepherd.

Colin.
No, that I can't brag of; but all the Day long
Some Mistress or other has place in my Song;
My Passion's not lasting, but 'tis very strong.
I speak the plain Truth, my good Lady.

Daphne.
I doubt you're a Rover; if so, a young Maid
May fear to be with you, within this thick Shade.

Colin.
Such Beauties as yours need be never afraid.
I speak the plain Truth, my good Lady.


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Daphne.
Suppose a young Shepherdess, just of my Size,
An Air too like mine, and a pair of such Eyes,
Should like you, say, would you your Conquest despise?
Speak boldly the Truth, my good Shepherd.

Colin.
Plain-Dealing's a Jewel, you very well know;
And therefore permit me to own ere I go,
Such a Mistress as you, is at best, but so so.
I speak the plain Truth, my good Lady.

Colin.
Farewel, gentle Maiden.

Daphne.
Farewel, thou dull Swain.
Go seek thy Companions that brouze on the Plain.

Both.
And I care not if e'er I behold thee again.
I speak the plain Truth, &c.

[Exeunt severally.

SCENE IV.

Discovers a Statue of Pan, near which is placed an Urn. Many Shepherds are discovered who have drawn, standing with the Women who have fallen to their Lot.
Thyrsis and Phillis.
Thyrsis.
Recit.
Arcadian Pan! whose happy Influence yields
Health to our Flocks, and Plenty to our Fields:

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If ere the Thoughts of Syrinx warm'd your Soul,
Or when to kinder Dryope you stole,
Suspend your Rage, assist my amorous Pray'r,
And to her Thyrsis give the matchless Fair.

[Advances to draw.
Phillis.
AIR.
Goddess of the dimp'ling Smile,
Quit, ah! quit thy fav'rite Isle;
Crown'd with Myrtle Wreath, advance;
From the Hand of giddy Chance
Snatch the Pow'r to make me bless'd,
Be it thine to ease my Breast.
In her Ivory Car the fair Queen I behold,
Her Cygnets in Trappings of Purple and Gold;
Displaying their Pinions I see the young Loves,
All brighter than Sun-shine, all soft as her Doves.
With Raptures, O Venus, I bow at thy Shrine:
She whispers me softly, Young Thyrsis is thine.

Thyrsis.
Recit.
O happy Thyrsis! let the Hills around,
And every Valley, catch the pleasing Sound:
Waft it, ye Breezes, to the Cyprian Shore;
Thyrsis is blest, and asks of Fate no more.

[Embraces Phillis.

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SCENE V, and LAST.

To them Colin and Daphne.
Phillis.
You come, my Daphne, in an happy Hour;
Each Cloud's dispell'd, and Tempests cease to lour.

Daphne.
Joy to my dear, but unexperienc'd Friend!
Who thinks that Love and Raptures know no end.

Colin.
Joy to my Thyrsis! and to thee, my Fair!
The Yoke is lasting that you're doom'd to wear.
May Love and Hymen never be at odds!
For both are young, and wond'rous testy Gods.

Thyrsis.
Haste to the Urn, there, there your Fortune try.

Colin.
I humbly thank you, but indeed, not I;
This kind of Lott'ry does not hit my Taste;
A Wife is no such mighty Prize, at last.
AIR.
How giddy is Youth! yet above all Advice:
You counsel, and counsel in vain:
I've try'd what is Wedlock, and like it so well
That I'll never be marry'd again.

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The Spouse that I pitch'd on was comely and young,
And sweet as the Flow'rs of the Plain:
She was wise, as they tell me; perhaps it might be;
But I'll never be marry'd again.
I saw the poor Creature laid deep in the Grave;
My Tears they came pouring like Rain:
But as Sun-shine, you know, will foul Weather succeed,
I quickly recover'd again.
Like the Castles of Fairies, it seems to the Sight;
And Fancy indulges the Rein:
But alas! when you try it, 'tis all a mere Cheat,
And the same dull Tale over again.

Daphne.
Recit.
Once more, well met, polite engaging Swain;
What Maid but must adore thy soothing Strain!
DUET.
O say! must I sigh and pine, my Love?
O say, must I sigh, and pine?
You're cruel, I swear,
As a Tiger, or Bear,
If you don't to my Wish incline, my Love;
If you don't to my Wish incline.

Colin.
So much I delight in thee, my Dear;
So much I delight in thee;

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Thou may'st sigh, pine, and moan,
Or may'st let it alone;
'Tis all the same to me, my Dear;
'Tis all the same to me.

Daphne.
But say, should I break my Heart, my Love?
But say, should I break my Heart?
Would you not be dismay'd
To have murder'd a Maid
With Cupid's keenest Dart, my Love?
With Cupid's keenest Dart.

Colin.
I should not be much dismay'd, my Dear;
I should not be much dismay'd:
If you think that I lye,
You had better go try,
I am not much afraid, my Dear;
I am not much afraid.

Daphne.
Since nothing, I find, will do, my Love;
Since nothing I find will do;
My Heart I'll break—
No, I'll live for your sake;
And I'll live to laugh at you, my Love;
And live to laugh at you.

Thyrsis.
Recit.
Cease all your Jars, while we, my gentle Maid,
Pursue true Pleasure in the rosy Shade:

23

But hasten, Swains, your annual Homage pay,
And hail with jolly Sounds the youthful May.

AIR.
Thyrsis.
Now the Snow-drop lifts her Head;
Cowslips rise from golden Bed;
Silver Lillies paint the Grove:
Welcome May, and welcome Love.

Phillis.
Hark! the merry Finches sing,
Heralds of the blooming Spring;
And the artless Turtle-dove
Coes at once to May and Love.

Thyrsis.
Long the clay-cold Maid denies,
Nor regards her Shepherd's Sighs:
Now your fond Petitions move,
May's the Season form'd for Love.

Phillis.
While adown the slopy Hill
Tinkles soft the gushing Rill,
Balmy Scents perfume the Grove,
May unbends the Soul to Love.

Daphne.
Now the Bee, on silv'ry Wings,
Flow'ry Spoils unweary'd brings;
Spoils that Nymphs and Swains approve,
Soft as May, and sweet as Love.

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And the Swallow's chirping Brood,
Skim around the crystal Flood:
Then in wanton Circlets rove,
Playful as the God of Love.

Colin.
On the Fair that deck our Isle,
May each Grace and Virtue smile!
And our happy Shepherds prove
Days of Ease, and Nights of Love.

[Exeunt omnes.
A Dance of Shepherds, &c.
FINIS.