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Enter Sol, to the tune of Robin Hood.

Sol. Fie, fifter, fie; thou mak'ft me mufe,

Derry, derry, down,

To fee the Orb abuse.

Luna. I hope his anger 'twill not move;
Since I fhew'd it out of love.

Hey down, derry down.

Orb. Where fhall I thy true love know,
Thou pretty, pretty moon?

Luna. *To-morrow foon, e're it be noon,

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[As they dance the hey, Bayes fpeaks.

Bayes. Now the earth's before the moon; now the moon's before the fun; there's the eclipfe again.

On Mount Vefuvio.]

"The burning mount Vefuvio.

+ Luna. And I will drink nothing but Lippary wine.]

Slighted Maid, p. 81.

Ibid. P.

81.

"Drink, drink wine, Lippary wine."

Smi. He's mighti'y taken with this I fee.
Johnf. Ay, 'tis fo extraordinary, how can he

chufe?

Bayes. So now, vanish eclipfe, and enter t'other battle, and fight. Here now, if I am not miftaken, you will fee fighting enough.

[A battle is fought between foot and great hobbyborfes. At laft Drawcanfir comes and kills them all on both fides.

is fighting, Bayes is

All the while the battle

telling them when to

fhout, and fhouts with them,

Draw. Others may boaft a fingle man to kill; But I the blood of thoufands daily fpill.

Let petty kings the name of parties know, Where'er I come I flay both friend and foe.

The fwifteft horsemen my swift rage controuls,

And from their bodies drives their trem-
bling fouls.

If they had wings, and to the gods cou'd
Ay,

I would purfue and beat them thro' the

fky;

13

And

And make proud Jove, with all his thunder, fee,

This single arm more dreadful is than he.

[Exit. Bayes. There's a brave fellow for you now, Sirs. You may talk of your Hectors and Achilles's, and I know not who; but I defy all your histories, and your romances too, to fhew me one fuch conqueror as this Drawcanfir.

Johns. I fwear I think you may.

Smi. But, Mr. Bayes, how fhall all thefe dead men go off? For I see none alive to help 'em.

Bayes. Go off! why, as they came on; upon their legs: how fhould they go off? Why, do you think the people here don't know they are not dead? He is mighty ignorant, poor man: your friend here is very filly, Mr. Johnson, l'gad, he is. Ha, ha, ha. Come, Sir, I'll fhew you

+ I'll fhew you how they shall go off, &c.] Valeria, daughter of Maximin, having killed herself for the love of Porphyrius, when she was to be carried off by the bearers, ftrikes one of them a box on the ear, and peaks to him thus,

"Hold! are you mad, you damn'd confounded dog? "I am to rife and speak the epilogue."

Tyrannick Love,

how they fhall go off. Rife, rife, Sirs, and go about your bufinefs. There's a go-off for you now, Ha, ha, ha. Mr. Ivory, a word; gentlemen, I'll be with you presently.

[Exit. Johnf. Will you fo? Then we'll be gone. Smi. Ay, pr'ythee, let's go, that we may preferve our hearing. One battle more will take mine quite away.

Enter Bayes and Players.

Bayes. Where are the gentlemen? 1 Play. They are gone, Sir.

[Exeunt."

Bayes. Gone! S'death! this laft act is best of all. I'll go fetch 'em again.

[Exit.

1 Play. What shall we do, now he is gone

away?

2 Play. Why, fo much the better; then let's go to dinner.

3 Play. Stay, here's a foul piece of paper: let's fee what 'tis.

3 or 4 Play. Ay, ay; come, let's hear it.

[Reads the argument of the fifth act. 3 Play. Cloris at length, being sensible of prince Pretty-man's paflion, confents to marry him; but, juft as they are going to church, Prince Pretty

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man meeting by chance with old Joan, the chand ler's widow, and remembring it was he that first brought him acquainted with Cloris; out of a high point of honour, breaks off his match with Cloris, and marries old Joan. Upon which Cloris, in defpair, drowns herfelf; and Prince Pretty-man difcontentedly walks by the river-fide. This will never do; 'tis juft like the reft. Come, let's be gone., [Exeunt. Moft of the Play. Ay, pox on't, let's be gone.

Enter Bayes.

Bayes. A plague on them both for me, they have made me fweat to run after 'em. A couple of fenfelefs rafcals, that had rather go to dinner than fee this play out, with a pox to 'em. What comfort has a man to write for fuch dull rogues ? Come, Mr.---a---Where are you. Come away, quick, quick.

Enter Stage-Keeper.

Stage. Sir, they are gone. to

dinner.

Bayes. Yes, I know the gentlemen are gone; but I ask for the players.

Stage. Why, an't please your worship, Sir, the players are gone to dinner too.

Bayes

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