Turn, my fairest, turn, if ever Strephon caught thy ravish’d eye; Pity take on your swain so clever, 25 Who without your aid must die. Yes, I shall die, hu, hu, hu, hu! Yes, I must die, ho, ho, ho, ho! (_Da capo._) MRS. BULKLEY. Let all the old pay homage to your merit; Give me the young, the gay, the men of spirit. 30 Ye travell’d tribe, ye macaroni train, Of French friseurs, and nosegays, justly vain, Who take a trip to Paris once a year To dress, and look like awkward Frenchmen here, Lend me your hands.—Oh! fatal news to tell: 35 Their hands are only lent to the Heinel. MISS CATLEY. Ay, take your travellers, travellers indeed! Give me my bonny Scot, that travels from the Tweed. Where are the chiels? Ah! Ah, I well discern The smiling looks of each bewitching bairn. 40 _Air—A bonny young lad is my Jockey._ I’ll sing to amuse you by night and by day, And be unco merry when you are but gay; When you with your bagpipes are ready to play, My voice shall be ready to carol away With Sandy, and Sawney, and Jockey 45 With Sawney, and Jarvie, and Jockey. MRS. BULKLEY. Ye gamesters, who, so eager in pursuit, Make but of all your fortune one _va toute_; Ye jockey tribe, whose stock of words are few, ‘I hold the odds.—Done, done, with you, with you;’ 50 Ye barristers, so fluent with grimace, ‘My Lord,—your Lordship misconceives the case;’ Doctors, who cough and answer every misfortuner, ‘I wish I’d been called in a little sooner:’ Assist my cause with hands and voices hearty; 55 Come, end the contest here, and aid my party. MISS CATLEY. _Air—Ballinamony._ Ye brave Irish lads, hark away to the crack, Assist me, I pray, in this woful attack; For sure I don’t wrong you, you seldom are slack, When the ladies are calling, to blush and hang back; 60 For you’re always polite and attentive, Still to amuse us inventive, And death is your only preventive: Your hands and your voices for me. MRS. BULKLEY. Well, Madam, what if, after all this sparring, 65 We both agree, like friends, to end our jarring? MISS CATLEY. And that our friendship may remain unbroken, What if we leave the Epilogue unspoken? MRS. BULKLEY. Agreed. MISS CATLEY. Agreed. MRS. BULKLEY.