Marg. The Dragon, sir! the Dragon! Moore. Say no more, You soon shall see him weltering in his gore. Marg. Most mighty Moore! do but this Dragon kill, All that we have is wholly at your will. Moore. The only bounty I require, is this, AIR.-MARGERY. Sole spring of my pleasure, Maux. (Overhearing.) A forward lady; she grows fond apace; But I shall catch her in a proper place. Moore. Leave her with me; conclude the Dragon dead; If I don't maul the dog, I'll lose my head. [Exeunt all but Moore and Marg. DUETT. Moore. Let my dearest be near me. Marg. I'll ever be near thee. Moore. To warm me, to cheer me. Marg. To warm thee, to cheer thee. Moore. Your fears I'll abolish. Zeno, &c. Marg, Ay, work him, Enter GUBBINS, MARGERY, MAUXALINDA, and others. CHORUS. O save us all! Moore of Moore Hall! Or else this cursed Dragon Will plunder our houses, (Kneeling.) And leave us the devil a rag on. AIR. MARGERY. Gentle knight! all knights exceeding, For my friends that stand before thee, Moore. (Aside.) Her looks shoot through my soul, her eyes strike fire; I'm all a conflagration of desire. (To Marg.) The deed is done, when once you name the task. Moore. I'll jerk him. Marg. Ay, jerk him. Both. From nostril to tail. Moore leads off Margery; MAUXALINDA enters, and pulls him back by the sleeve. Maux. O villain! monster! devil! basely base! Oh! 'tis enough to make a maid miscarry! matter? Tell me, my dear, the cause of this vexation. Marg. An ugly dream has put me in a fright: Moore. Don't fright thyself with dreams, my girl, ne'er fear him; I'll work his buff, if ever I come near him. Enter MAUXALINDA. [Exit. Maux. So, madam, have I found you out at last? You now shall pay full dear for all that's past. Maux, Oh, how easy is a woman! Moore. Oh! how charming is a woman, Yet so eager to subdue man, Marg. Let's reward them as they treat us; But, if they deceive and cheat us, Let us e'en cheat them again. All. Let's reward them as they treat us, &c. [THE OLD (Drinks.) (Dies.) (Margery descends from the tree.) Marg. Oh, my champion! how d'ye do? Moore. Oh, my charmer! how are you? (To Moore.) Marg. Very well, thank you. Moore. I'm so too. Your eyes were livid, and your cheeks were pale; But now you look as brisk as bottled ale. Give me a buss. Marg. Ah, twenty, if you please. Moore. With all my heart, and twenty after these. DUETT. My sweet honeysuckle, my joy and delight, I'll kiss thee all day, and hug thee all night. My dearest is made of such excellent stuff, I think I shall never have kissing enough. Enter GUBBINS, MAUXALINDA, and Villagers. Gub. Most mighty Moore, what wonders hast thou done! Destroy'd the Dragon, and my Margery won. In roratorios shall be sung hereafter. You son of a whore, I wish I'd known your tricks before. All. Huzza! huzza! huzza! The Old Ballad, ON WHICH THE FOREGOING BURLESQUE OPERA IS FOUNDED. An excellent BALLAD of a most dreadful Combat, fought between Moore, of Moore Hall, and the Dragon of Wantley.-To a pleasant tune much in request. Old stories tell, how Hercules A dragon slew at Lerna, With seven heads, and fourteen eyes, To see and well discern-a: But he had a club this Dragon to drub, Or he had ne'er don't, I warrant ye: But Moore of Moore Hall with nothing at all, This Dragon had two furious wings, He had long claws, and in his jaws Have you not heard of the Trojan horse, All sorts of cattle this Dragon did eat, And that the forest sure he would For houses and churches, were to him geese and turkies; He eat all, and left none behind, But some stones, dear Jack, which he could not crack, Which on the hills you'll find. In Yorkshire, near fair Rotheram, Some two or three miles, or thereabouts, But there is a hedge just on the hill edge, 0, there and then, was this Dragon's den, Some say this Dragon was a witch; Hard by, a furious knight there dwelt, For he could wrestle, play at quarter staff, kick, cuff, and huff, Call son of a w-, do any kind of thing; By the tail and the main, with his hands twain, These children, as I told, being eat, Sighing and sobbing, came to his lodging, "O save us all, Moore of Moore Hall, Not to spoil their hose. As soon as he arose, It is not strength that always wins, Where he did think this Dragon would drink, And as he stoop'd low, he rose up and cry'd "Boh!" And hit him on the mouth. Then to it they at it fall, Like two wild boars so fierce; I may Compare great things with small. Do but slay this Dragon, who won't leave us a rag Two days and a night, with this Dragon did fight We'll give thee all our goods." "Tat, tut!" quoth he, "no goods I want, A fair maid of sixteen, that's brisk, and clean, Hair black as a sloe, and a skin white as snow, This being done, he did engage But first he went, new armour to With spikes all about, not within, but without, Both behind and before, arms, legs, and all o'er, Some five or six inches long. Had you seen him in this dress, How fierce he look'd, and how big, Each cow, each horse, and each hog; For fear they did flee, for they took him to be To see the fight, all people then On churches some, and chimneys too; Our champion on the ground; Tho' their strength it was great, their skill it was neat, They never had one wound. A FARCE, IN TWO ACTS.-BY SAMUEL FOOTE Young W. How long have you left Paris, Papillion? Pap. Twelve, dirteen year. Young W. Acquainted with the fashionable figures of both sexes. Pap. Sans doute. Young W. Well, then, open your lecture; and d'ye hear, Papillion, as you have the honour to be promoted from the mortifying condition of an humble valet to the important charge of a private tutor, let us discard all distance between us. See me ready to slake my thirst at your fountain of knowledge, my Magnus Apollo. Pap. Here, then, I disclose my Helicon to my poetical pupil. Young W. Hey, Papillion! Pap. Sir? Young W. What is this? Why you speak English? Pap. Without doubt. Young W. But like a native! Pap. To be sure. [this? Young W. And what am I to conclude from all Pap. But, to be better understood, I believe it will be necessary to give you a short sketch of the principal incidents of my life. Young W. Pr'ythee do. Pap. Why, then, you are to know, sir, that my former situation has been rather above my present condition, having once sustained the dignity of Young W. I can't compliment you upon your sub-preceptor to one of those cheap rural academies progress in English. Pap. The accent is difficile. Young W. But here you are at home. Pap. C'est vrai, Young W. No stranger to fashionable places. Pap. O, faite! with which our county of York is so plentifully stocked. Young W. Why this disguise? Why renounce your country? Pap. There, sir, you make a little mistake; it was my country that renounced me. |