MISS CATLEY.
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’m for a different set.—Old men, whose trade isStill to gallant and dangle with the ladies;— 20 _Recitative._ Who mump their passion, and who, grimly smiling,Still thus address the fair with voice beguiling:— _Air—Cotillon._ Turn, my fairest, turn, if everStrephon caught thy ravish’d eye;Pity take on your swain so clever, 25Who without your aid must die.Yes, I shall die, hu, hu, hu, hu!Yes, I must die, ho, ho, ho, ho!(_Da capo._)
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