For spite of your rakehelly godhead, By day and by night, Juno will have her right, Nor be of dues nuptial defrauded. I'll ferrit the haunts Of your female gallants; SCENE II.—A champaign Country, with a dis tant Village; violent Storm of Thunder and Lightning. A Shepherd, sleeping in the Field, is roused by it, and runs away frightened, leaving his Cloak, Hat, and Guitar, behind him. APOLLO, as cast from Heaven, falls to the Earth, with a rude shock, and lies for a while stunned; at length he begins to move, rises, advances, and looking forward, speaks; after which, enters to him SILENO. Apollo. Zooks! what a crush! a pretty decent tumble! Kind usage, Mr. Jove-sweet sir, your humble. Well, down I am ;-no bones broke, though sore pepper'd shepherd Here doom'd to stay.-What can I do? turn low, Nor doubt I, with my voice, guitar, and person, In vain you in darkness enclose them; Hum! plays, I see, upon the hurdy-gurdy. I'll plunge to the shades, Or into cows metamorphose them. Jup. Peace, termagant!-I swear by Styx, our thunder Shall hurl him to the earth-Nay, never wonder, Apollo. Hold, hold! have patience, AIR. eoy your friends advised, Maugre your bolts, and wise head, Seems out of place-a stranger--all in tatters; ters. Mid. I've heard of that Pol's tricks, of-his sly tampering, Dam. There sits the old soaker—his pate troubling little How the world wags: so he gets drink and vittle, To fling poor Pan, but I'll soon send him scam- Hoa, master Pan!-Gad, you've trod on a thistle! pering. You may pack up your all, sir, and go whistle. The wenches have turned tail-to yon buck | Mum-snug's the word-I'll lead her such a Mys. O Pan! the devil to pay-both my sluts frantic! Both in their tantrums, for yon capering antic. But, I'll go seek them all; and if I find them, I'll drive them as if Old Nick were behind them. dance He's as tight a lad to see to, Though my sister cast a hawk's eye, Hither I stole out to meet him, He'll, no doubt, my steps pursue; If the youth prove true, I'll fit him; If he's false-I'll fit him too. Daph. Sir, you're such an olio, Of perfection in folio, No damsel can resist you: At the first sight, I could have run and kissed you. AIR. If you can caper as well as you modulate, With the addition of that pretty face, Pan, who was held by our shepherds a god o' late, Will be kicked out, and you set in his place. |