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Till I get out of this my bird's cage,—
Oh! ere she's here, 'twill be a long age.—
Lud!—Women too are so monstrous queer!
'Tis birds, they say, make love by the ear:
They wonder how I can bear about,
Such a large crooked Toucan like snout;
Cry, singing, fool! becomes not a judge—
Hist! hist! who comes here?—hist!—let's not
budge!
Oh! ere she's here, 'twill be a long age.—
Lud!—Women too are so monstrous queer!
'Tis birds, they say, make love by the ear:
They wonder how I can bear about,
Such a large crooked Toucan like snout;
Cry, singing, fool! becomes not a judge—
Hist! hist! who comes here?—hist!—let's not
budge!
SCENE SECOND.
Enter July, puffing and blowing as she passes, with a large kettle and stand.
Sir John, from the box, (with a low voice.)
July!—July my dear!—What's your haste!
Here I'm!—Here I'm!—In dark corner plac'd!
O Lud!—Ohon!—Oh! favour me kettle!
By thy weight at this place make her settle!—
She's gone!
SCENE THIRD.
Sir John, solus.
Still, though, I will here remain,
Till, unloaded, she returns again—
Oh!—alas!—Oh!—anee!—Hee!—How!—Wow!—
I hear her coming, puffing not now
Like fat broken winded mare—no wheeze—
No cough—now, reliev'd, she moves at ease.
SCENE FOURTH.
July enters, returning, without the kettle and stand.
