 | Penelope |  |
24
SCENE II.
Thimble enters, looking after Penelope.Thimb.
Is Thimble ever thus condemn'd to burn
Hot as his Goose, and meet with no Return?
Cou'd'st thou but measure Half the Love I bear
To Thee, my Suit wou'd well deserve thy Care.
SONG III.
Hot as his Goose, and meet with no Return?
Cou'd'st thou but measure Half the Love I bear
To Thee, my Suit wou'd well deserve thy Care.
1
Forth from my Shopboard am I come,To try the Force of Love again;
Poor Tom can neither work, nor keep at Home,
Till Pen will deign to cure his distemper'd Brain.
2
O! Alas! I'm all forlorn,I am become the Neighbour's Scorn;
Cleaver laughs, and Hopkins is full glad,
To see their Rival Tom the Taylor mad.
25
I own I am not made to coax and wheedle,
But I'm as true as to the Pole the Needle.
Stiffer than Buckram's thy obdurate Heart;
And sharper than my Sheers is Cupid's Dart.
But I'm as true as to the Pole the Needle.
Stiffer than Buckram's thy obdurate Heart;
And sharper than my Sheers is Cupid's Dart.
Dol.
Nay, Master Thimble, never thus complain,
The Sheers but part, you know, to meet again.
Thimb.
Ah! Dol, thy Mistress shou'd not use Me ill,
I love her more than Staytape in a Bill;
And if she will not quickly be my Wife,
Grief soon will snap my slender Thread of Life.
Thimb.
Ah! dearest Dol, wou'd you my Cause assist,
You soon might do the Bus'ness,—if you list;
But, O! I fear that, by your late Behaviour,
The Bully Cleaver stands most in your Favour.
Dol.
Why truly Cleaver is a Man of Merit,
And shews, in ev'ry Act, he wants no Spirit;
For, if he's out of Pelf, he'll always bring
A Sweetbread, or a Heart, or some such Thing;
26
We Servants love a pretty Bit, or so.
Thimb.
Well, Dol, when you this silver Thimble see,
Think of Tom Thimble; that is, think of me.
Dol.
'Tis done.—This Present pays me well for speaking.
[Aside.
How can they say you Taylors all are sneaking!
First go yourself, and boldly speak your Mind;
She's in the Bar, or in the Room behind.
First go yourself, and boldly speak your Mind;
She's in the Bar, or in the Room behind.
Thimb.
Love, Thimble, owns thy Pow'r where'er he goes!
You scarcely give him Time to ty his Hose.
[Thimble goes out, pulling up his Stockings.
| Penelope | |