 | The Rover ; Or, Happiness at Last |  |
SCENE III.
To him, Colin.COLIN
(Not perceiving Strephon.)
I, who was once the Glory of the Plain,
The blithest Youth among the Rural Train;
Who defly on my Oaten Read cou'd play,
To chace the ling'ring Summer Hours away;
Who cou'd so well the shifting-Trip advance,
And was the Nimblest in the sprightly Dance;
Who laugh'd at all the Power of the Fair,
And ridiculed each Shepherd in the Snare,
Alas, am caught! Oh, sad Reverse of Fate!
Will any sympathize my hapless State?
AIR.The blithest Youth among the Rural Train;
Who defly on my Oaten Read cou'd play,
To chace the ling'ring Summer Hours away;
Who cou'd so well the shifting-Trip advance,
And was the Nimblest in the sprightly Dance;
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And ridiculed each Shepherd in the Snare,
Alas, am caught! Oh, sad Reverse of Fate!
Will any sympathize my hapless State?
No more shall Eccho o'er the Plains
Repeat my mirthful Song;
Nor vocal Hills the tuneful Strains
Of mellow Pipe prolong:
For Oh, my Heart, so wont to stray,
Is past recalling flown away,
And Love at last enslaves me.
Repeat my mirthful Song;
Nor vocal Hills the tuneful Strains
Of mellow Pipe prolong:
For Oh, my Heart, so wont to stray,
Is past recalling flown away,
And Love at last enslaves me.
How oft' in yonder conscious Grove
I've woo'd each blooming Fair;
How oft' wou'd Fate propitious prove,
And Silence bless me there:
But now no more such Scenes endear,
I sigh for Raptures more sincere;
For Love at last enslaves me.
I've woo'd each blooming Fair;
How oft' wou'd Fate propitious prove,
And Silence bless me there:
But now no more such Scenes endear,
I sigh for Raptures more sincere;
For Love at last enslaves me.
Ah, what will Strephon say when once he knows it?
Streph.
Lovers are blind, it seems, this plainly shows it.
Colin.
By Heav'n he's here!
Streph.
What Colin made a Tool?
Who'd be a Slave to Cupid, but a Fool?
“Ha! ha! no, I defy the brightest Fair
“To give my easy Heart an Hour's Care.”
Where's now your boasted Fortitude retir'd?
Where's that Indiff'rence, you had long acquir'd?
Behold the lawless Youth, so fam'd Abroad,
Who made his vicious Appetite his God,
Who cou'd so close his false Intentions cover,
At last a simple, sighing, whining, Lover!
AIR.Who'd be a Slave to Cupid, but a Fool?
“Ha! ha! no, I defy the brightest Fair
“To give my easy Heart an Hour's Care.”
Where's now your boasted Fortitude retir'd?
Where's that Indiff'rence, you had long acquir'd?
Behold the lawless Youth, so fam'd Abroad,
Who made his vicious Appetite his God,
Who cou'd so close his false Intentions cover,
At last a simple, sighing, whining, Lover!
The subtle Fox thus makes
The cackling Brood his Prey,
And, as he finds the Treat,
Repeats the Crime each Day:
The cackling Brood his Prey,
And, as he finds the Treat,
Repeats the Crime each Day:
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But for the wily Thief
A cunning Gin is cast;
And, tho' he long escape,
Sly Reynard's trapp'd at last.
A cunning Gin is cast;
And, tho' he long escape,
Sly Reynard's trapp'd at last.
“Farewell, poor Youth! indulge your Melancholly,
“And may the scornfull She correct your Folly.”
“And may the scornfull She correct your Folly.”
Colin.
Stay, Strephon, stay, I own I mock'd your Flame,
But ne'er suspected I shou'd know the same.
Your wonted gen'rous Temper let me see,
Nor copy, Shepherd, what was wrong in me.
Streph.
Colin, thy ill-tim'd Jokes displeas'd my Ear,
Yet still I thought them trifling,—as they were.
I can partake another's Grief,—'tis true,
And therefore pity all, where Pity's due.
Colin.
In thy Advice, my Friend, I balm shall find,
To heal the Anguish of my Love-sick Mind.
Streph.
Why will this doleful Manner win thy Dear?
In Wisdom's Garb thy Passion shou'd appear.
The whining Woo'r the Nymph to smile may move,
But 'tis the Youth of Spirit gains her Love.
Be rul'd by me, the gentle Warmth I know,
Long have I felt it in my Bosom glow,
Submit with Patience, scorn a Sigh tho' cross'd,
Nor in the Lover, let the Man be lost.
Colin.
Thy Love is mod'rate, mine's a raging Fire.
Streph.
A certain Sign 'twill very soon expire.
What Damsel has this fatal Conquest made?
Sure she's in more than mortal Charms array'd!
Colin.
Oh, she's an Angel! but her Name I'll keep
Silent as Nature when lock'd fast in Sleep:
Tho' I for thee from that Resolve cou'd swerve,—
Yet, for the Present let Description serve.
AIR.
When yon bright Beam, the Source of Day,
Which decks the verdant Landskip gay,
Is rising from the Eastern Skies,
View that, and see her radiant Eyes.
Which decks the verdant Landskip gay,
Is rising from the Eastern Skies,
View that, and see her radiant Eyes.
When Philomela tunes the Air,
Attend, her thrilling Voice you'll hear:
Smell all the fragrant Flow'rs in bloom,
Such is her gentle Breath's Perfume.
Attend, her thrilling Voice you'll hear:
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Such is her gentle Breath's Perfume.
Like this uncultivated Scene,
The Beauties of her Face and Mien
Excell the strongest Force of Art:
No Language can her Charms impart.
The Beauties of her Face and Mien
Excell the strongest Force of Art:
No Language can her Charms impart.
RECITATIVE.
Streph.
She must be heav'nly! but I always thought
Thy Heart cou'd never be by Beauty caught.
Colin.
Tho' she's as Venus fair, as Pallas wise,
A much superior Grace made me her Prize.
Virtue, tho' claim'd by most, so seldom found,
I long imagin'd only empty sound,
But I in her beheld its real Pow'r:
And must for that the matchless Nymph adore.
Streph.
That can give Light through all Deformity,
But how had it such great Effect on thee?
Colin.
I'll tell thee Swain: with each inticing Art
I try'd to make her Virgin Whims desert;
She seem'd well pleas'd to listen to my Tale,
And flatt'ring Smiles assur'd I shou'd prevail:
Yet, when I thought she'd be no longer coy,
And every Sense grew big with coming Joy,
The Ballance turn'd! her Virtue won the Day!
And who'd have been the Conq'ror, fell the Prey.
Streph.
I'm glad to hear it; such a Change as this,
No doubt will yield thee everlasting Bliss.
Baseness my very Soul with Horror strikes;
None but a Brute would ruin what he likes.
Colin.
Yet, Strephon, such a one I've long Time been;
Wild was my Hope when first this Nymph was seen:
But when 'gainst more than Human Pow'r I strove,
Each ruder Wish was melted into Love.
Streph.
Pursue her boldly, mean Endeavours shun,
Perhaps, in Honour, she may yet be won:
But if you find her not to be obtain'd
Contented, bear the Lot by Heav'n ordain'd.
Colin.
Whatever Strephon says I must commend.
Streph.
Colin adieu! Success your Suit attend!
[Exit.
| The Rover ; Or, Happiness at Last | |