Air.—Would you have a young virgin, etc.
The mist is dispelled, when a woman appears;
Like the notes of a fiddle she sweetly, sweetly
Raises the spirits and charms our ears.
Roses and lilies her cheeks disclose,
But her ripe lips are more sweet than those;
Press her,
Caress her;
With blisses
Her kisses
Dissolve us in pleasure and soft repose.
I must have women! There is nothing unbends the mind like them. Money is not so strong a cordial for the time. Drawer!
Enter Drawer
Is the porter gone for all the ladies according to my directions?
Draw. I expect him back every minute. But you know, sir, you sent him as far as Hockley-in-the-Hole for three of the ladies, for one in Vinegar Yard, and for the rest of them somewhere about Lewknor’s Lane. Sure some of them are below, for I hear the bar-bell. As they come, I will show them up. Coming, coming!
[Exit Drawer.
Enter Mrs. Coaxer, Dolly Trull, Mrs. Vixen, Betty Doxy, Jenny Diver, Mrs. Slammekin, Sukey Tawdry, and Molly Brazen.
Mac. Dear Mrs. Coaxer, you are welcome; you look charmingly to-day. I hope you don’t want the repairs of quality and lay on paint? Dolly Trull! Kiss me, you slut! Are you as amorous are ever, hussy? You are always so taken up with stealing hearts that you don’t allow yourself time to steal anything else. Ah, Dolly, thou wilt ever be a coquette. Mrs. Vixen! I’m yours; I always loved a woman of wit and spirit; they make charming mistresses but plaguy wives. Betty Doxy! Come hither, hussy! Do you drink as hard as ever? You had better stick to good wholesome beer; for in troth, Betty, strong waters will in time ruin your constitution. You should leave those to your betters. What, and my pretty Jenny Diver, too! As prim and demure as ever? There is not any prude, though ever so high bred, hath a more sanctified look with a more mischievous heart. Ah, thou art a dear, artful hypocrite! Mrs. Slammekin! As careless and genteel as ever! All you fine ladies, who know your own beauty, affect an undress. But see, here’s Sukey Tawdry come to contradict what I was saying. Everything she gets one way she lays out upon her back. Why, Sukey, you must keep at least a dozen tallymen. Molly Brazen! [She kisses him.] That’s well done! I love a free-hearted wench. Thou hast a most agreeable assurance, girl, and art as willing as a turtle. But hark! I hear music. The harper is at the door. ‘If music be the food of love, play on.’ Ere you seat yourselves, ladies, what think you of a dance? Come in!
Enter Harper
Play the French tune that Mrs. Slammekin was so fond of. [A dance à la ronde, in the French manner; near the end of it this song and chorus.]
Air.—Cotillon
Love is then our duty;
She alone who that employs
Well deserves her beauty.
Let’s be gay
While we may,
Beauty’s a flower despised in decay.
Chorus.—Youth’s the season, etc.
Ours is not to-morrow;
Love with youth flies swift away,
Age is naught but sorrow.
Dance and sing,
Time’s on the wing,
Life never knows the return of spring.
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