Little John And The Giants A Dramatic Opera |
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| 2. | SCENE II. |
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 | Little John And The Giants |  |
SCENE II.
Enter Jack.They embrace.
Jill.
My Jack!
Jack.
My Jilly!
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Am I then so blest?—
Jack.
Do I then clasp my charmer to my breast?
Jill.
What means that sudden pale on that sweet face—
Thy trembling motion, and thy changing grace?—
What is the matter?
Jack.
Sooth, I cannot tell—
'Tis witchcraft, sure!
Jill.
I fear you are not well.
Jack.
A malady of sighs—a swimming kind
Of pleasant sense, yet sickness of the mind!
Jill.
Best call a doctor!
Jack.
O!—I'd first endure
A thousand deaths!—I could not bear a cure—
Jill.
But now suppose you were indeed half dead—
Which Heaven forbid!—and wounded on your bed;
What doctor would you send for?
Jack.
Ah! I feel,
Your breath could balm, your hand alone could heal—
And this puts to my mind a strong suggestion,
That you're yourself the naughty witch in question.
AIR XXXI.
Tune. “Old Through the Wood Laddie.”
Of an ailment so killingly sweet, I could die;
For your sight it so charms me,
Chills, changes, and warms me,
That I wish, and I wish—nor know wherefore, nor why;
And my soul I could waft it away in a sigh.
For your sight it so charms me,
Chills, changes, and warms me,
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And my soul I could waft it away in a sigh.
When absent, nor rest nor refreshment I find;
Though alone you can cheer me,
I tremble when near me,
My senses grow all as bewitch'd as my mind,
And my eyes on your eyes they could look themselves blind.
Though alone you can cheer me,
I tremble when near me,
My senses grow all as bewitch'd as my mind,
And my eyes on your eyes they could look themselves blind.
Ah, Jacky! 'twill be found—I fear it will—
That you are full as great a witch as Jill;
And all the little skill I have to smatter,
Informs me this is love—
Jack.
Is that the matter?
That I do love, I do discern most clearly,
My mother, sister, and good neighbours, dearly—
But this is quite another thing!
Jill.
I know it—
For thus your Jilly sings, as said the poet.
AIR XXXII.
Tune. “Nancy's to the Green Wood gone.”Of all the maladies that cleave
To man, if that you moan, sir,
Which no physician can relieve,
Save only one alone, sir—
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The doctor is the datum;
In love, the cause alone can cure—
A recipe probatum!
Ah, Jilly, never was a truer sonnet!
As sure as I am here, you've hit upon it.
And yet who would have thought a thing so grievous,
That one so sweet should be so much mischievous.
Jill.
Ah, Jacky! but that you're a simple guesser,
You might have seen you were the first aggressor.
And here I give you warning in this way,
That I will study all the hurt I may.
Jack.
Nay, I do find the same intention too;
And have as much revenge at heart, as you.
Jill.
Then let us to each other, maid and man,
Do all the loving mischief that we can.
Jack.
A match!—O Jilly! while your hand I'm feeling,
I tread the air, and dance along the ceiling.
| Little John And The Giants | |