Fly, Fly From My Sight. Fly Far Away A DIALOGUE SUNG AT A PLAY, BY A EUNUCH BOY SHE. Fly, fly from my sight, fly far away, My scorn thou'lt only purchase by thy stay, HE. Dear, dear Angel to Here on this place I'll rooted grow, Have charmed me so, I cannot, cannot stir, I cannot, cannot go. By all my Actions, thou may'st see, Why I can Kiss, and I can play, SHE. Boast not thy Music, for I fear, HE. Why, so can I, SHE. No, no, no poor Boy: HE. Why, why cannot I? SHE. The reason is, I only guess There's something in thy Face and Voice, HE. Pray do but try, do but try, &c. I know no reason, no reason why? SHE. You know, you know, you know you Lie. Would Ye Have a Young Virgin of A SONG IN THE LAST ACT of the moderN PROPHETS, 1719 WOULD ye have a young Virgin of fifteen Years, Wittily, prettily talk her down, Chase her, and praise her, if fair or brown, Sooth her, and smooth her, And tease her, and please her, And touch but her Smicket, and all's your own. Do ye fancy a Widow well known in a Man? Do ye fancy a Punk of a Humour free, You must rail at her Keeper, and tell her, tell her Swear her much fairer than all the Town, And meet her, and treat her, And kiss with two Guineas, and all's your own. "In a Cellar at Sodom" A CATCH FROM PILLS TO PURGE MELANCHOLY, 1719 In a Cellar at Sodom, at the Sign of the T-, Two Buxom young Harlots were drinking with L—; As great as a Monarch between 'em was got; Pray shew us dear Daddy how we were begot; Godzoukes, you young Jades, 'twas the first Oath I wot, "A Gentle Breeze from the FROM PILLS TO PURGE MELANCHOLY, 1719 A GENTLE Breeze from the Lavinian Sea, Was gliding o'er the Coast of Sicily; When lulled with soft Repose, a prostrate Maid, Her Soul was all tranquil and smooth with Rest, And pressed the Flow'rs with Touch as soft as they. My thoughts in gentlest Sounds she did impart, The trembling Nymph all o'er Confusion lay, Then murmurs in a soft Complaint, and cries, "Celemene, Pray Tell Me" FROM PILLS TO PURGE MELANCHOLY [1719], WITH MUSIC; SET BY MR. HENRY PURCELL, SUNG BY A BOY AND GIRL AT THE PLAYHOUSE HE. Celemene, pray tell me, Pray, pray tell me, Celemene, When those pretty, pretty, pretty Eyes I see, Why my Heart beats, beats, beats, beats in my Breast, Why this trembling, why this trembling too all o'er? When you wash your self and play, I methinks could look all day; Nay, just now, nay, just now am pleased, am pleased so well, Should should you Should you, should you kiss me, I won't tell, No, no I won't tell, no, no I won't tell, no, no I won't HE. Tho' I could do that all day, Sure, sure in Love there's something more, Don't ask what, don't ask what, for I'm ashamed: Then you'll know, then, then, you'll know what 'tis Then you'll know what, then you'll know what 'tis I mean. HE. However, lose not present bliss, But now we're alone, let's kiss: But now we're alone, let's kiss, let's kiss. SHE. My breasts do so heave, so heave, so heave, HE. My heart does so pant, pant, pant; SHE. There's Something, something, something more we want, There's Something, something, something more we want. An Epithalamium on the Marriage of FROM PILLS TO PURGE MELANCHOLY, 1719 Our Absence will their Wishes crown, For now all Music, but their own, Now Love inflames the Bridegroom's Heart, If this Divine, harmonious Bliss Attends each happy Marriage Day, Who such a blessed State would miss, Oh, Joy too fierce to be exprest, Thou sweet Atoner of Life's greatest Pain, By thee are Men with Love's dear Treasure blest, Smile then divine, propitious Pow'rs, A Dialogue Between a Town Spark and FROM PILLS To purge melaNCHOLY, 1719 SHE. Did you not promise me when you lay by me, SHE. Ah, who would trust you men that swear and vow so, HE. If we can swear and lie, you can dissemble, And then to hear the Lie, would make one tremble. SHE. Had I not loved, you had found a Denial, HE. Real I know you were, I've often tried ye, SHE. If thousands lov'd me, where was my transgression, HE. Thou could'st talk prettily, e'er thou could'st go, Child: HE. Send your Kid home to me, I will take care on't, "To Charming Caelia's Arms I Flew" FROM PILLS TO PURGE MELANCHOLY, 1719 Lost in the sweet tumultuous Joy, |