“The ſire conſents to bleſs the pair,
And names the nuptial day,
When, lo! the bridegroom was not there,
Becauſe he was away.”
Baron.
But tell me—Had the father his daughter’s innocence to deplore?
Butler.
Ah! my Lord, ah! and you muſt hear that part in rhyme. Loſs of innocence never ſounds well except in verſe.
“For ah! the very night before,
No prudent guard upon her,
The Count he gave her oaths a ſcore,
And took in change her honour.
Moral.
Then you, who now lead ſingle lives,
From this ſad tale beware;
And do not act as you were wives,
Before you really are.”
Enter Count Caſſel.
Baron. [to the Butler].
Leave the room inſtantly.
Count.
Yes, good Mr. family poet, leave the room, and take your doggerels with you.
Butler.
Don’t affront my poem, your honour; for I am indebted to you for the plot.
“The Count he gave her oaths a ſcore
And took in change her honour.”
