Nothing's like thee! From prifon we're free, To liberty, liberty. SCENE, A rural Prospect. Enter tavo Shepherdeffes. Shep. What, to be left and forfaken! and fee the falfe fellow make the fame vows to another, almost before my face! I can't bear it, and I won't? 2 Shep. Why, look ye, fifter, I am as little inclined to bear these things as yourfelf; and if my fwain had been faithlefs too, I fhould have been vex'd at it, to be fure; but how can you help yourself? 1 Shep. I have not thought of that; I only feel I can't bear it; and as to the won't, I must truft in a little mifchief of my own to bring it about- O that I had the power of our enchantrefs yonder! I wou'd play the devil with them all. 2 Shep. Why are you fo angry, my dear fifter?-Will your quarrelling with her bring back your fweetheart? 1 Shep. No matter for that-when the heart is overloaded, any vent is a relief to it; and that of the tongue is always the readiest and most natural-So if you won't help me to find her, you may stay where you will. Lin. (Singing without.) "Care flies from the lad that is merry." 66 2 Shep. Here comes the merry Linco, who never knew care or felt forrow-If you can bear his laughing at your griefs, or finging away his own, you may get fome information from him. Enter Linco finging. Lin. What, my girls of ten thoufand! I was this moment defying love and all his mifchief, and you are fent in the nick by him to try my courage; but I'm above temptation, or below it-I duck down, and all his ar rows fly over me. AIR. merry, Care flies from the lad that is Shep. What, are you always thus! Lin. Ay, or heav'n help me! What, would you have me do as you do walking with your arms across, thus heighho'ing by the brook-fide among the willows? Oh! fie for fhame, laffes! young and handsome, and fighing after one fellow a-piece, when you should have a hundred in a drove, following you like-like-you shall have the fimile another time. 2 Shep. No; prithee, Linco, give it us now. Lin. You fhall have it—or, what's better, I'll tell you what you are not like-you are not like our fhepherdefs Sylvia-She's fo cold and fo coy, that the flies from her lovers, but is never without a fcore of them; you are always running after the fellows, and yet are always alone; a very great difference, let me tell youfroft and fire, that's all. 2 Shep. Don't imagine that I am in the pining condi tion my poor fifter is I am as happy as the is miferable. Lin. Good lack, I'm forry for't. 2 Shep. What, forry that I am happy? Lin. O! no, prodigious glad. Shep. That I am miferable: Lin. No, no;-prodigious forry for that-and prodi. gious glad of the other. 1 Shep. Be my friend, Linco; and I'll confefs my folly to you Lin. Don't trouble yourfelf-'tis plain enough to be feen-but I'll give you a receipt for it without fee or reward-there's friendship for you. 1 Shep. Prithee, be serious a little. Lin. No; heav'n forbid! If I am ferious, 'tis all over with me--I should foon change my roses for your lilies. 2 Shep. Don't be impudent, Linco-but give us your receipt. AIR Lin. I laugh and I fing, I am blithsome and free; By the fad willow tree: 1 Shep. It won't do. • Lin. Then far [Exeunt 1 Shep. And as I can't cure my love, I'll revenge it. Lin. But how, how, fhepherdefs? Shep. I'll tear Sylvia's eyes out. • Lin. That's your only way -for you'll give your ← nails a feast, and prevent mischief for the future-Oh! 'tear her eyes out by all means. 2 Shep. How can you laugh, Linco, at my sister in her condition? Lin. I must laugh at fomething; fhall I be merry • with you? eat. 2 Shep. Shepherd, the happy can bear to be laugh'd Lin. Then Sylvia might take your fhepherd without a figh, though your fifter would tear her eyes out. 2 Shep. My Shepherd! what does the fool mean? Shep. Her fhepherd! pray tell us, Linco. [Eagerly. Lin. 'Tis no fecret I fuppofe-1 only met Damon and Sylvia together. Hh 3. • 2 Shep.. 2 Shep. Whit, my Damon? Lin. Your Damon that was, and that would be Sylvia's Damon if she would accept of him. 2 Shep. Her Damon! I'll make her to know• wicked flut!-a vile fellow-Come, fifter, I'm ready to go with you-we'll give her her own-if our old go⚫ vernor continues to caft a fheep's eye at me, I'll have •her turned out of Arcadia, I warrant you. Shep. This is fome comfort, however; ha, ha, ha! 2 Shep. Very well, fifter, you may laugh, if you please-but perhaps it is too foon-Lince may be mitaken; it may be your Dorilas that was with her. Lin. And your Damon too, and Strephon, and Colin, and Alexis, and Egon, and Corydon, and every • fool of the parish but Linco, and he flicks to Fal, la, la, la! And ha, ha, ha, ha! 1 Shep. I can't bear to fee him fo merry fo miferable. when I am [Going 2 Shep. There is fome fatisfaction in feeing one's friter as miferable as one's felf. [Going. • Lin. One word more, laffes, if you please; I fee you are both brimful of wrath, and will certainly fcratch • one another, if you don't find Sylvia-now hear but ⚫ another fong; and if it does not cool you, I'll show you ⚫ where the enemy lies, and you shall draw your tongues ⚫ upon her immediately. AIR. • If you make it To love but one man, By one you are furely betray'd: • Oh! what can you do? Alas you must die an old maid. And you too muft die an old maid. • Wou'd you ne'er take a fup But out of one cup, And it proves brittle ware, you are curft: If down it fhould tip, • Or thro' your hands flip, O how wou'd you then quench your third? If, your palate to hit, You choofe but one bit, And that dainty tit-bit fhould not keep: • Then reftlefs you lie, Pout, whimper, and cry, And go without fupper to fleep, And go, &c. As your fhepherds have chofe Two ftrings to their bows, • Shall one for each female fuffice? • Like me, take a score, • And then you'll be merry and wise. [Exeunt feverally. SCENE changes to another rural Prospect. Sylvia is discovered lying upon a bank, with a basket of flowers. Enter Merlin. Mer. My art fuceeds-which hither has convey'd, To catch the eye of Cymon, this fweet maid. Her charms shall clear the mists which cloud his mind, And make him warm and fenfible and kind; Her yet cold heart with paffion's fighs fhall move, Melt as he melts, and give him love for love. This magic touch fhall to these flow'rs impart [Touches the bafket of flowers with his wand. A pow'r, when beauty gains, to fix the heart; A pow'r, the falfe enchantress shall confound; And Cymon's cure shall be Urganda's wound. [Exit. Enter Cymon with his Bird. Cym. Away, prifoner, and make yourself merry.(Bird flies.) Ay, ay, I knew how it would be with you much good may it do you, Bob- -What a fweet place this is! Hills and greens, and rocks and trees, and water and fun, and birds!-Dear me, 'tis just as if I had never feen it before. [Whistles about till he fees Sylvia; then stops, and finks his whistling by degrees, with a look and attitude of foolish aftonishment. Ola!what's here! what's here!'Tis fomething dropp'd from the |