_Peg._ Dear me, I am so ashamed, and yet to speak the Truth, I do like you hugely, and wou'd like you better still, if it were not for one thing, which a little troubles me. _Comp._ What's that? _Peg._ Why, you know sometimes we are forc'd to endure the Absence of our Husbands a long while, mehappen many Years, and then if there be any Slip in us, (as long Vacations will make Lawyers hungry) the World is apt to censure and scandalize us; and brand us with wanton Living and Incontinency; when alas! if they wou'd but consider our Condition, and the mighty Longings we often naturally have for Flesh and Blood, they wou'd not blame us, so they wou'd not. _Comp._ Come, come, no Matter, canst thou love me, Widow? _Peg._ Ah, if I durst but speak my Mind, I know what I wou'd say. _Comp._ Durst, why who do you fear? here's none but an honest Gentleman, some few Friends and Neighbours; let them hear a God's Name what you wou'd say, and never blush for the Matter. 1st _W. Neigh._ Aye, aye, speak Neighbour, pray speak your Mind, and fear not. _Peg._ I shall be thought too weak to yield at first Sight. 2d _W. Neigh._ Paw! paw! that's only Nicety. _Peg._ Well then I do love him dearly and dearly, so I do. [_Runs and kisses him_. _Comp._ And I thee with all my Heart and Soul. [Comp. _kisses_ Peg. Now we'll be merry, and have a Song, shall we not my Neighbours? 3d _Neigh._ Marry will we, Neighbour _Luff_ and Mrs. Bride, will ye give us a Song? _Peg._ With all my Heart, come Neighbour. A DIALOGUE. Man: _Faith and Troth I love thee dearly, Tho I do but bluntly woo, Prithy then resolve me clearly, Whether I am beloved by you. Long I shall not keep a pother, Like a senseless whining Beau; If you won't I'll court another Who will never say me no._ Woman: _Friend, your self, nor Humour neither With my Fancy disagree, Yet I must find clearer Weather Er'e I venture out to Sea. Court another at your Pleasure Win her in the Honey-moon, She may chance repent at leisure, For believing you too soon._ Man: _Leave your damn'd Fantastick Trials, Which procure a Lover's Pain, Pox upon these sham-Denials, 'Tis but spending time in vain. With Embraces happy make me, Nature fram'd you to be kind; Kiss me, and the Devil take me If I ever change my Mind._ Woman: _I'll pursue the good old Fashion, Practise still by those are wise, Throughly try my Lover's Passion, E're I let him grasp the Prize. Spite of Oaths you wou'd forsake me, Shou'd I let you once embrace: If I kiss, the Devil take me, Till the Parson has said Grace._ Chorus. _Since then Nation Has made it a Fashion, Let's send for a Black Coat, whilst we're in the Mind. But it is damn'd Slavery, And Priestly Knavery, That Parsons must conjure e're Lovers be kind._