Text 17


Come COLUMN, your song.


[goes to piano and flirts with Ms. NANNICANTIPOT] 

As I walk'd forth one May morning 
To see the fields so pleasant & so gay,
O there did I spy a young maiden sweet,
Among the Violets that smell so sweet,
Smell so sweet,
Smell so sweet,
Among the Violets that smell so sweet.


Hang violets! Here's to Rum and water, "Sweets"
[winks at GIMBLET].

I never saw such a bowler
To bowl the ball into a turd
And to clean it with my handkerchief 
Without saying a word

[sits with lovers] O, Say, Joe Bradley and I was going along one day in the Sugar house, Joe Bradley saw--for he had but one eye--saw a treacle jar [hands form a woman's shape]. So he goes of his blind side and dips his hand up to the shoulder in treacle [thrusts his arm under the table, on GITTIPIN'S lap, extending his tongue]: here, lick, lick, lick! said he. For he had but one eye.

[everyone in pub but SCOPPRELL and GITTIPIN has a hearty laugh]


And I ask the Gods no more-- 
no more, no more. 
no more, no more.

Ms. Gittipin, you sing like a harpsichord. Let your bounty descend to our fair ears and favour us with a fine song.