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Mrs. Deb. Come, turn out of the house, and be thankful my brother does not hang you, for he could do it, he's a justice of peace;-turn out of the house, I say: 572

J. Wood. Who gave you authority to turn him out of the house he shall stay where he is.

Mrs. Deb. He shan't marry my neice.

J. Wood. Shan't he? but I'll shew you the difference now, I say, he shall marry her, and what will

you do about it?

Mrs. Deb. And you will give him your estate too, will you?

J. Wood. Yes, I will.

Mrs. Deb. Why I'm sure he's a vagabond.

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J. Wood. I like him the better, I would have him a vagabond.

Mrs. Deb. Brother, brother!

Haw. Come, come, Madam, all's very well, and I see my neighbour is what I always thought him, a man of sense and prudence.

Sir Will. May I never do an ill turn, but I say so

too.

590

J. Wood. Here, young fellow, take my daughter, and bless you both together; but hark you, no money till I die; observe that.

Eust. Sir, in giving me your daughter, you bestow upon me more than the whole world would be without her.

Ros. Dear Lucinda, if words could convey the transports of my heart upon this occasion

Luc. Words are the tools of hypocrites, the pretenders to friendship; only let us resolve to preserve our esteem for each other.

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Y. Mea. Dear Jack, I little thought we should ever meet in such odd circumstances-but here has been the strangest business between this lady and me

Hodge. What then, Mrs. Rossetta, are you turned false-hearted after all; will you marry Thomas the gardener; and did I forsake Madge for this?

Ros. Oh lord! Hodge, I beg your pardon; I protest I forgot; but I must reconcile you and Madge, I think, and give you a wedding-dinner to make you amends.

Hodge. N-ah.

Haw. Adds me, Sir, here are some of your neighbours come to visit you, and I suppose to make up the company of your statute-ball; yonder's musick too I see; shall we enjoy ourselves? If so, give me your hand.

J. Wood. Why, here's my hand, and we will enjoy ourselves; Heaven bless you both, children, I say-Sister Deborah, you are a fool.

Mrs. Deb. You are a fool, brother; and mark my words

you.

-But I'll give myself no more trouble about

Haw, Fiddlers strike up.

AIR

Hence with cares, complaints, and frowning,

Welcome jollity and joy;

Ev'ry grief in pleasure drowning,

Mirth this happy night employ:

Let's to friendship do our duty,

Laugh and sing some good old strain ; Drink a health to love and beauty

May they long in triumph reign.

TABLE OF THE SONGS,

With the NAMES of the several COMPOSERS.

N. B. Those marked thus * were composed on pur. pose for this Opera.

A New Overture by Mr. Abel,

ACT I.

HOPE, thou nurse of young desire,
Whence can you inherit

Mr. Weldon

Abos

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* Still in hopes to get the better

There was a jolly miller once

Let gay ones and great

The honest heart whose thoughts are free

Well, well, say no more

Cupid, god of soft persuasion

Arne

Baildon

Festing

Larry Gorgan

Giardini

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When I follow'd a lass that was froward and shy

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