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His beard so frowsy, his gestures so aukward are, Both. You will lie till your're mouldy upos tie And his bagpipe has so drowsy a drone,

shelf. That if they find you, as I did, no backwarder, You may count on all the girls as your own.

Daph. You stump o' th' gutter, you hop o'

thumb, Mys. (From within.] Pol, Pol! make haste

A husband for you must from Lillipas hither.

come. Pol. Death, what a time to call !

Nysa. You stalking steeple, you gawky stag, Oh! rot your old lungs of leather.

Your husband must come from Brabdis B’ye, Daph. Daph. B'ye, Pol.


Sour grapes !

Lead apes!
Enter Nysa.

Both. rll humble your vanity, Mistress Trape.
Nysa. Marry come up, forsooth,
Is't me, you forward vixen,

Daph. Miss, your assurance,
You choose to play your tricks on? Nysa.

And miss, your high cirs,
And could your liquorish tooth


Is past all endurance.
Find none but my sweetheart to fix on?


Are at their last prayers. Daph. Marry come up again,

Daph. No more of those freedoms, Miss Ngsa, I Indeed, my dirty cousin !

Have you a right to every swain? Nysa. Miss Daphne's conceit must be lowered a Nysa. Ay, though a dozen.

Daph. ? Poor spite!

Pride hurt!


Lirer white!
Nysa. )

Rare sport!
Daph. My minikin miss, do you fancy that Pol Daph. Do shew your teeth, spitfire, de, bat

Can ever be caught by an infant's dol ? Nysa. Can you, Miss Maypole, suppose he will Nysa. (This haughtiness soon will be laid is fall

the dirt.
In love with the giantess of Guild-hall ?

Poor spite, &c.
Pigmy elf!

Pride hurt, gc.
Colossus itself!


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Nysa. Young birds alone are caught with chaff; | SCENE III.-A Lawn before Midas's House.

At your base scheme I laugh.
Yet take my vows-

Enter Nysa.
Nysa. I would not take your bond, sir-
Half my estate

Nysa. Good lack! what is come o'er me?
Nysa. No; nor the whole--my fond sir.

Daphne has stepped before me !

Envy and love devour me.

Pol doats upon her phiz hard;
'Tis that sticks in my gizzard.

Midas appears now twenty times more
Ne'er will I be left i' the lurch;

hideous, Ceuse your bribes and wheedling:

Ah, Nysa ! what resource?—a cloyster. Till I'm mude a bride i' the church,

Death alive- yet thither must I run,
I'll keep man froin meddling.

And turn a nun.
What are riches,

And soft speeches
Baits and fetches
To bewitch us :
When you're won us,
And undone us,

In these greasy old tatters,
Cloy'd, you shun us,

His churms brighter shine ;
Frowning on us,

Then his guitar he clatters,
For our heedless peddling.

With tinkling divine.

But, my sister,
Ah! he kissed her,

And me he passed by;

I'm jealous
Of i he fellow's

Bad taste, and blind eye.
Midas, then Pan, and Pou listening.



SCENE IV.-Midas's Parlour.

Wid. Well, master Pol I'll tickle,
For him, at least, I have a rod in pickle:

When lie's in limbo,
Not thus our hoity toity miss,

Will stick her arms a-kimbo.

Miday, Mysis, and Pan, in consultation over a

large Bowl of Punch, Pipes, and Tobacco.

Pan. So, squire ! well met -I few to know

your business.
Mid. Why, Pan, this Pol we must bring down

on his knees.
Pan. That were a feat, indeed ;-a feat to

brag on.
Mid. Let's home-we'll there concert it o'er

a flaggon.
I'll make him skip-

Pan. As St. George did the dragon.

Mid. Come, Pan, your toast-
Pan. Here goes, our noble umpire !
Mys. And Pol's defeat-I'll pledge it in a bum-

Mid.' Hang him! in every scheme that whelp

has crossed us.
Mys. Sure he's the devil himself;
Pan. Or Doctor Faustus.
Mys. Ah ! Squire--for Pan, would you but

stoutly stickle,
This Pol would soon be in a wretched pickle.

Pan. You reason right-
Mid. His toby I shall tickle.
Mys. Look, squire, I've sold my butter, bere

it's price is
At your command, do but this job for Mysis.
Count them—six guineas and an old Jacobus,
Keep Pan, and shame that scape-grace coram



If into your hen-yard
The treacherous reynard

Steals slily, your poultry to ravage,
With gun you attack him,
With beagles you track him,

All's fair to destroy the fell savage.
So Pol, who comes picking
Up my tender chicken,

No means do I scruple to banish;
With power I'll o'erbear him,
With fraud I'll ensnare him,
By hook or by crook he shall danish.


Mid. Goody, as 'tis your request,

I pocket this bert stuff;
And as for that there peasant,
Trust me I'll work his buff.

At the musical struggle
I'll bully and juggle ;

My award's
Your sure card.


Blood, he shall fly his country-that's enough.

Pan. Well said, my lad of wax!

Mid. Let's end the tankard, I have no head for business till I've drank bard. Pan. Nor hare iny guts brains in them till

they're addle, When I'm inost rocky I best sit my saddle. Mid. Well, come, let's take one bouze, and

roar a catch, Then part to our affairs.

Pan. A match !
Mys. A match!

If a riral thy character draw,
İn perfection he'll find out a flaw;

With black he will paint,

Make a de'il of a saint,
And change to an owl a macca,
Dam. Can a father pretend to be uise,
Who his friend's good advice would do

spise ?
Who, when danger is nigh,

Throws his spectacles by,
And blinks through a green girl's eyes!
Sil. You're un impudent pimp, and a grub!
Dam. You are fooled by a beggarly scrub;

Your betters you snub. Sil. Who will lend me a club,

This insolent puppy to drub?

You are an impudent pimp, and a grub, Dam. You're cajoled by a beggarly scrub, Sil. Who will rot in a powdering tub. Dam. Whom the prince of impostors I dub; Sil. A guinea for a club, Dam. Your bald pate you'll rub, Sil. The muckworm io drub. Dam. When you find that your cubSil. Rub ott, sirrah ; rub, sirrah, rub. Dam. Is debauched by a whip'd syllabub.

Mid. Master Pol,
And his toll-de-roll-loll,

I'll buffet away from the plain, sir. Pan. And I'll assist

Your worships fist

With all my might and main, sir. Mys. And I'll have a thump,

Though he is so plump,

And make such a wounded racket. Mid. I'll bluff, Pan. I'll rough, Mys. I'll huff, Mid. I'll cuft, Omn. And I'll warrant we pepper his jacket, Mid. For all his cheats,

And wenching feats,

He shall rue on his knees 'em.
Or skip, by goles, .
As high as Paul's,

Like ugly witch on besom ;
Arraign'd he shall be,

Of treason to me!
Pan. And I with my dady will back it;

I'll swear,
Mid. I'll snare,
Mys. I'll tear,
Omn. O rare!
And I'll warrant we'll pepper his jacket.


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Enter Sileno and Mysis, attended by Dapest

and Nysa.

Mys. Soh! you attend the trial we shall

drive hence Your vagabond

Sil. I smoke your foul contrivance.
Daph. Ah, Ny! our fate depends upon this

Nysa. (To Daphne.] For your sake my

claim I here forego; And with your Pol much joy I wish yon.

Daph. O, gemini ! say'st thou me so? Dear creature, let me kiss you. Nysa. Let us kneel, and beg his stay; papa

will back us. Daph. Mamma will storm. Nysa. What theu ? she can but whack us.



Enter SILENO and DAMÆTAS, in warın

Sil. My Daph a wife for thee, the squire's base

pandar !
To the plantations sooner would I send her.

Dam. Sir, your good wife approved my offers.

Sil. Name her not, hag of Endor, What knew she of thee but thy coffers? Dam. And shall this ditch-born whelp, this

jack-anapes, By dint of congees and of scrapesSil. These are thy slanders, and that cankered

Dam. A thing made up of pilfered rags-

Sil. Richer than thou, with all thy brags
Of flocks, and herds, and money-bags.

Daph. Mother, sure you neter

Will endeavour
To dissever
From my favour

So sweet a swain ?
None so clever

Eer trod the plain. Nysa. Father, hopes you gave her,

Don't deceive her;
Can you leave her

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Sunk for eder

In pining care?
Haste and save her

From black despair.
Daph. Think of his modest gruce,

His voice, shape, and fuce ;
Nysa. Hearts alarming,
Daph. Bosoms warming,
Nysa. Wrath disarming,
Daph. With his soft lay:
Nysa. He's so charming,

Ay, let him stay,
Both. He's so charming, 8c.
Mys. Sluts, are you lost to shame ?
Sil. Wife, wife, be more tame.
Mys. This is madness !
Sil. Sober sadness !
Mys. I with gladness

Could see him swing,

For his badness. Sil. 'Tis no such thing. . Dam. Must Pan resign, to this fop, his en

ployment i Must I, to him, yield of Daphne the

.... enjoyment? Mys. Ne'er while a tongue I brandish,

Fop outlandish,

Daphne shall blandish. Dam. Will you reject my income,

Herds and clinkum? Sil. Rot and sink 'em. Dam. Midas must judge. Mys. And Pol must fiy. Sil. Zounds, Pol shan't budge! Mys. You lie? Dam. You lie! Mys. Dam. You lie, you lie! Sil. Nysa. Pan's drone is fit for wild rocks and

· bleak mountains ; Daph. Pol's lyre suits best our cool grots and

clear fountains.
Nysa. Pol is young and merry;
Daph. Light and airy,
Sil. As a fairy.
Nysa. Pan is old and musty:
Daph. Stiff und fusty;
Sil. Sour and crusty.
Daph. Can you bunish Pol?
Nysa. No, no, no, no !

Let Pan fall.
Daph. Ay, let him go.
Deph. Ay, let him go.

go. Sil.

O tremendous, &c. Mid. So, you allow it, then ! ye mobbish rab


Enter Pol and Pan sederally. . Oh, here comes Pol and Pan; now stint your

gabble. Fetch my great chair! I'll quickly end this


Now I'm seated,
I'll be treated

Like the sophi on his throne;
In my presence,
Scoundrel peasants,

Shall not call their souls their own.
My behcst is,
He who best is,

Shall be fixed musician chief :
Ne'er the loser,
Shall shew nose here,

But be transporied like a thief.

CHORUS. O tremendous, 8c.

Midas comes forward, enraged, attended by a

crowd of Nymphs and Swains. Mid. Peace, ho! is hell broke loose? what

means this jawing? Under my very nose this clapper clawing !

Dam. Masters, will you abide by this condi

tion? Pan. I ask no better. .. Pol. I am all submission.


Pan. Strike up sweet sir.
Pol. Sir, I attend your leisure.
Mid. Pan, take the lead.
Pan. Since 'tis your worship's pleasure.

Pan shall remain; · Pol quit the plain.

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long ;


O tremendous, 8c.
A por of your pother about this or that ;
Your shrieking, or squeaking, a sharp or a Mid. All bow with me to mighty Pan-
flat :

throne him I'm sharp by my bumpers, you're flat, master No pouting and with festal chorus crcra Pol;

himSo, here goes a sel to at toll-de-roll-loll ! [The Croud form tuo Ranks beside the Cher,

and join in the Chorus, whilst Midas CTER AS When Beauty her pack of poor loters would | him with Bays.

And after Miss Will o' the Whisp the fools

Ding dong, sing song, they the lady ertol :
Pray what's all this fuss for, but

See, triumphant, sits the bard,

Crowned with bays, his due reward; roll-loll!

Eriled, Pol shall wander far;

Exiled, twang his faint guitar; Mankind are a medleya chance medley

While, with echoing shouts of praise, race : All start in full cry, to give Dame Fortune

We the bagpipe's glory raise. chace : There's catch as catch can, hit or miss, luck is Mid. 'Tis well. What keeps you here, feel

ragamuffin? And luck's the best tune of life's toll-de-roll-Go trudge-or do you wait for a good cuting loll!

Pol. Now, all attend. [Throws off his Discrete

and appears as APOLLO.-The wrath I've done, please your worship, 'tis rather too Jove, for rapine,

Corruption, lust, pride, fragd, there's no escas" I only meant life is but an old song.

ing, The world's but a tragedy, comedy, droll, Tremble, thou wretch ! thou'st stretched by ato Where all act the scene of toll-de-roll-loll !

most tether;

Thou and thy tools shall go to pot together. Mid. By jingo! well performed for one of his age;

AIR. How, hang dog! don't you blush to shew your

Dunce, I did but sham, visage? Pol. Why, master Midas, for that matter,

For Apollo I am, 'Tis enough to dash one,

God of Music, and King of Parnass ;
To hear the arbitrator,

Thy scurvy decree,
In such unseemly fashion,

For Pan against me,
One of the candidates bespatter,

I reward with the ears of an ass.
With so much partial passion.
[Minas falls asleep: 1

Mid. Detected, baulked, and small,

On our marrow-bones we fall.

Mys. Be mcrciful!

Be pitiful!
Ah, happy hours, how fleeting

Mid. Forgive us, mighty Sol. Alas, alas! Ye danced on down away; When my soft nows repeating,

AIR. At Daphne's feet l'lay!

Apollo. Thou a Billingsgate quean, [To Nr · But from her charms when sundered,

Thou a pander obscene, [To Day, As Midas' frowns presage ;

With strumpets and bailifs shall class; Enih hour will seem an hundred;

Thou, driven from man, [TODA Each day appear an age.

Shalt wander with Pan,

He a stinking old goat, thou an ass, 63 Midi Silence! this just decree, all, at your

ass, gc. peril, Obedient hcar-else I shall use you very ill.

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