E'en Ma'am, so proud of grand Parade Who at the Race-course makes her Bett Or runs to Ball & Masquerade 'Till she runs herself o'er Ears in debt Tho 'my devoirs don't please her much, We meet, I every art essay She's mine by a Necromantic touch Because I has such a taking Vay. (3.) Box-lobby Loungers to my will Obedient Yield, I change their Song From bullying Bass to Treble Shrill E'en Dammes tremble on their Tongue; I mimicry too; practice much, In taking off great Art display I'm quite at home by a single touch, Because I has such a taking Vay. (_They Retire._) Enter _Sarah Young_ & her _Servant Girl_, with a Box--on which is written "Sarah Young"--_Bailiffs_, come forward, look pryingly about--The Chair comes on P.S. _Bailiff_ stops _Rake_ and arrests him,--_Boy_ Steals his Cane--_Sarah Young_ pays the money for _Rake_, he kisses her hand, returns into Chair & is carried back: She goes off O.P. supported by her _Girl_; having left the Contents of her Box on the Ground--The Shoe-Boy is picking them up, when _Clown_ Enters, who reads, & recollects the name, disputes with _Boy_ about the Contents of the Box, & seeing his Master's Cane claims it--a Scuffle ensues.--Whenever _Clown_ attempts to Strike _Boy_--_Boy_ throws his Stool in _Clown's_ way over which he breaks his Shins--_Clown_ has already a great Leak in his Hat, & finding a Muff in the Box, wears it, & apes the _Welchman_ who is going to Court. * * * * * _Scene 8^{th}_ _Bells Ringing--Marrow Bones & Cleavers &c &c_ _Rake & Old Woman._ Richly dress'd coming from Church. _Men Servants_ in Rich Liveries--_Clown._--_old Lady's maid Serv^{t.}_ &c all in favours.--_Parish Clerk_ Bows very low--_Old Lady_ Stops & makes him a present--_Marrow Bones & Cleavers_ beg of _Rake_ who throws money on the Ground, they Scramble for it. Company go off.--Tune during the Whole time--"Mind the Golden Rule." _Sarah Young_, on coming out of Church, faints against a Monument: Recovers to see them go off--Looks after them.--pause--Sings _Air.--Tune--"Mary's Lamentation."_ I sigh, I lament me in vain The Chill wind Re-echo's my moan; Alas, what can equal my pain-- When I think that for ever he's gone. My Eyes, when they're raised above, View Birds as they wanton in Air Sweet Birds!--Ye are coupled by Love I weep & I sink in despair. Tho' Affection be all turn'd to hate And that Hate be the Sum of my woes My fears will arrise for his Fate, I cannot divest me of those. Base Man! know in Ages to come, Thy falsehood detested Shall be And when I am Cold in my tomb Some Heart still shall sorrow for me. (_Bell Tolls._)