Camilla An Opera |
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| 12. | SCENE XII. |
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 | Camilla |  |
SCENE XII.
Manet Tullia and Linco.Tul.
Pretty is this Neice of thine;
How doth she to Love incline?
Linc.
For Love she is too young.
Tul.
And yet I saw—but hush, my Tongue.
Linc.
Spare your Reflections; she is right,
And can't distinguish Black from White.
Tul.
They are Fools, that can rely
Upon a formal Cast o'th'Eye.
Among Women, they for certain
Know the most, that least discover,
To the Husband, or the Lover,
Whom they study to betray.
See her to th'Appointment hasting,
Her Steps precise, her Looks upcasting;
But could you the Fair disclose behind the Curtain,
You'd quickly hear her burst out into an Ah!
Know the most, that least discover,
To the Husband, or the Lover,
Whom they study to betray.
See her to th'Appointment hasting,
Her Steps precise, her Looks upcasting;
But could you the Fair disclose behind the Curtain,
You'd quickly hear her burst out into an Ah!
Linc.
Dorinda knows not, on my Life,
What Husband-means, what's meant by Wife.
Tul.
Small Learning will suffice t'explain,
To willing Minds, what those Words mean.
Linc.
The Meaning then is known to you?
Tul.
The Theory yes, the Practick no.
Linc.
An untouch'd Virgin you appear.
Tul.
I dar'd not wed too soon.
Linc.
What Thoughts of Wedlock now d'you bear?
Tul.
To wed whilst I am in my Noon.
11
Thy Noon is Night.
[Aside.
Tul.
A well-built Wight.
[Aside.
Linc.
A wanton Witch.
Tul.
A Tongue so sweet.
Linc.
Yet if she's rich
I'll languish at her Feet.
Aged Phillis
Wanton still is,
Paying now for those dear Pleasures,
Which before improv'd her Treasures,
When her Youth was in the Bloom.
Gold supplies what Age is wasting,
Gold has Beauties ever lasting,
Gold gives Brav'ry to the Coward,
Gives good Humour to the Froward,
Gold gives Honour to the Clown.
Wanton still is,
Paying now for those dear Pleasures,
Which before improv'd her Treasures,
When her Youth was in the Bloom.
Gold supplies what Age is wasting,
Gold has Beauties ever lasting,
Gold gives Brav'ry to the Coward,
Gives good Humour to the Froward,
Gold gives Honour to the Clown.
Tul.
Linco.
Linc.
See how her Chaps water.
Tul.
I find I please.
Linc.
And I'll be at her.
Like my Brother Beaux o'th'Town,
I'll Love pretend, where there is none.
For thee I burn, my pretty Dame,
Be complaisant, and quench my Flame:
O how much I long t'enfold thee,
And in Hymen's Bands to hold thee.
Tul.
My House's Honour would miscarry,
Should I to a Peasant marry.
Linc.
O Heav'ns!
Tul.
Indeed I own that I adore him,
But must not yield yet for decorum.
I languish!
Linc.
For whom?
Tul.
I sorrow!
Linc.
My Dear.
Tul.
My Treasure!
Linc.
I'm here.
Tul.
I speak not to thee.
Me would'st thou?
Linc.
Thee, thee!
12
O help me!
Linc.
Here, here!
Tul.
Thus pensive I go,
And utter my Woe.
[Exeunt.
| Camilla | |