AIR XIX.—PEDRILLO.
A soldier I am for a lady,
What beau was e'er arm'd completer?
When face to face,
Her chamber the place,
I'm able and willing to meet her.
Gad's curse, my dear lasses, I'm ready
To give you all satisfaction;
I am the man,
For the crack of your fan,
Tho' I die at your feet in the action.
Your bobbins may beat up a row-de dow,
Your lap-dog may out with his bow wow wow,
The challenge in love,
I take up the glove,
Tho' I die at your feet in the action.
Spado [Advances.] That's a fine song, signor.
Ped. Hey! did you hear me sing?
Spado. I did, 'twas charming.
Ped. Then take a pinch of my macquabah.
[Offers, and Spado takes.
Spado. Now, signor, you'll please to discharge my little bill.
Ped. Bill! I don't owe you any—
Spado. Yes, you do, sir; recollect, didn't you ever hire any thing of me?
Ped. Me! no!
Spado. Oh, yes; I lent you the use of my two fine ears, to hear your song, and the use of my most capital nose, to snuff up your macquabah.
Ped. Eh! what the deuce, do you hire out your senses and organs, and—
Spado. Yes, and if you don't instantly pay the hire, I'll strike up a symphonia on this little barrel organ here.
[Shows a Pistol.
Ped. Hold, my dear sir—there—[Gives Money.]—I refuse to pay my debts!—Sir, I'm the most punctual—[Frightened.] But if you please, rather than hire them again, I'd chuse to buy your fine nose, and your capital ears, out and out.
Spado. Hark ye! [In a low Tone.] You owe your Donship to a finesse of mine, so mention this, and you are undone, sirrah!
Ped. Sir! [Frightened.] Dear sir! [Spado presents Pistol.]—Oh, lord, sir!
[Exit.
Spado. I suspect presently this house will be too hot for me, yet the devil tempts me strongly to venture in once more. If I could but pick up a few more little articles—Ecod, I'll venture, though I feel an ugly sort of tickling under my left ear—Oh, poor Spado.
[Exit.