man, who scorned even the shadow of dishonour, and thou shalt sit rent-free for a twelvemonth.

Sir Harry. Come, shan't we all salute?-With your leave, my lord, I'll

Lady S. Sir Harry!

Lord A.

Theod.

AIR.

Yield who will to forms a martyr,
While unaw'd by idle shame,
Pride for happiness I barter,
Heedless of the million's blame.
Thus with love my arms I quarter ;
Women grac'd in nature's frame,
Ev'ry privilege, by charter,
Have a right from man to claim.

Eas'd of doubts and fears presaging,
What new joys within me rise!
While mamma, her frowns assuaging,
Dares no longer tyrannize.
So long storms and tempests raging,
When the blust'ring fury dies,
Ah! how lovely, how engaging,
Prospects fair, and cloudless skies!

Sir Harry. Dad, but this is wondrous pretty,
Singing each a roundelay;
And I'll mingle in the ditty,

Patty.

Tho' I scarce know what to say.
There's a daughter, brisk and witty;
Here's a wife, can wisely sway:
Trust me, masters, 'twere a pity,
Not to let them have their way.

My example is a rare one;

But the cause may be divin'd:
Women want not merit-dare one
Hope discerning men to find.

Giles.

Oh! may each accomplish'd fair one,
Bright in person, sage in mind,
Viewing my good fortune, share one
Full as splendid, and as kind.

Laugh'd at, slighted, circumvented,
And expos'd for folks to see't,
'Tis as tho'f a man repented

For his follies in a sheet.

But my wrongs go unresented,

Since the fates have thought them meet:

This good company contented,

All my wishes are complete.

ADDITIONAL AIRS,

SOMETIMES INTRODUCED.

ACT THE SECOND.

GILES.

Gadzooks! there's such gig, and nice rig, on the lawn,
Little Sal for a partner wou'd fain have me on;
But when yours I shall be,

Hou 'twill mortify she!

Then I'll bet twenty pound,

That the whole village round,

Cannot show such a couple as Patty and me.

For you the sweetest flowers 1 chose,

See here the wreath I've wove;

Of this a chaplet I'll compose,

And crown you queen of love.

Though Jemmy so supple,

And Jenny so taper,
Cast off the first couple,

Because they can caper;

Poll jigs it with Roger,
Blythe Betty with Cudden;
And Cudden's a codger
Won't tire of a sudden :

Though Tim of the valley,
So nimble when tipsey,
Foots up to sly Sally,
That arch little gipsy;

Though spruce Davy Dumble,
Is partner with Dolly,
And old Gaffer Grumble
Is link'd to young Polly;

Yet you and I'll dance, for a crown or a guinea,
'Gainst Poll, Tim, Sal, Jem, Bet, Bill, Cudden, and
Jenny.

FANNY.

The fields were gay,
And sweet the hay,

Our gang of gipsies seated,

Upon the grass,

Both lad and lass,

By you we all were treated.

Young chicken, geese,

With ducks and pease,
And beans and bacon dainty;
With punch and beer,

The best of cheer,

You gave us then in plenty.

'Twas all to cheat poor silly Fan,

And pilfer that same jewel;

You're sworn to me, you perjur'd man,
Though now so false and cruel.

Ere round the huge oak, that o'ershadows my mill, The fond ivy had dar'd to entwine;

Ere the church was a ruin, that nods on the hill, Or a rook built her nest on the pine;

H