_Bombas._ Fusbos, give place, You know you haven't got a singing face; Here nature, smiling, gave the winning grace. SONG.--"_Hope told a flatt'ring Tale_." Hope told a flattering tale, Much longer than my arm, That love and pots of ale In peace would keep me warm: The flatt'rer is not gone, She visits number one: In love I'm monstrous deep. Love! odsbobs, destroys my sleep, Hope told a flattering tale, Lest love should soon grow cool; A tub thrown to a whale, To make the fish a fool: Should Distaffina frown, Then love's gone out of town; And when love's dream is o'er, Then we wake and dream no more. [_Exit._ [_The_ KING _evinces strong emotions during the song, and at the conclusion starts up._ _Fusbos._ What ails my liege? ah! why that look so sad? _King_ [_coming forward._] I am in love! I scorch, I freeze, I'm mad! Oh, tell me, Fusbos, first and best of friends, You, who have wisdom at your fingers' ends, Shall it be so, or shall it not be so? Shall I my Griskinissa's charms forego, Compel her to give up the regal chair, And place the rosy Distaffina there? In such a case, what course can I pursue? I love my queen, and Distaffina too. _Fusbos._ And would a king his general supplant? I can't advise, upon my soul I can't. _King._ So when two feasts, whereat there's nought to pay, Fall unpropitious on the self-same day, The anxious Cit each invitation views, And ponders which to take or which refuse: From this or that to keep away is loth, And sighs to think he cannot dine at both. [_Exit._ _Fusbos._ So when some school-boy, on a rainy day, Finds all his playmates will no longer stay, He takes the hint himself--and walks away. [_Exit._ SCENE II.--_An Avenue of Trees._ _Enter the_ KING. _King._ I'll seek the maid I love, though in my way A dozen gen'rals stood in fierce array! Such rosy beauties nature meant for kings; Subjects have treat enough to see such things. SCENE III.--_Inside of a Cottage._ _Enter_ DISTAFFINA. _Distaf._ This morn, as sleeping in my bed I lay, I dreamt (and morning dreams come true they say), I dreamt a cunning man my fortune told, And soon the pots and pans were turned to gold! Then I resolv'd to cut a mighty dash; But, lo! ere I could turn them into cash, Another cunning man my heart betray'd, Stole all away, and left my debts unpaid. _Enter the_ KING. And pray, sir, who are you, I'd wish to know? _King._ Perfection's self, oh, smooth that angry brow! For love of thee, I've wander'd thro' the town, And here have come to offer half a crown. _Distaf._ Fellow! your paltry offer I despise; The great Bombastes' love alone I prize.