The Song for the Page to sing at Erminia’s Chamber-door.
Amintas that true-hearted Swain
Upon a River’s bank was laid,
Where to the pitying streams he did complain
Of Sylvia that false charming Maid,
But she was still regardless of his pain:
Oh faithless Sylvia! would he cry,
And what he said the Echoes would reply.
Be kind or else I die, E. I die.
Be kind or else I die, E. I die.
A shower of tears his eyes let fall,
Which in the River made impress,
Then sigh’d, and Sylvia false again would call,
A cruel faithless Shepherdess.
Is Love with you become a criminal?
Ah lay aside this needless scorn,
Allow your poor Adorer some return,
Consider how I burn, E. I burn.
Consider, &c.
Those Smiles and Kisses which you give.
Remember, Sylvia, are my due;
And all the Joys my Rival does receive
He ravishes from me, not you.
Ah Sylvia, can I live and this believe?
Insensibles are touched to see
My languishments, and seem to pity me.
Which I demand of thee, E. of thee,
Which I demand, &c.
Pis. What’s all this?
Phi. Who’s there?
Pis. A Man, a Friend to the General.
Phi. Then thou’rt an Enemy to all good Men. Does the ungrateful Wretch hide his own head, And send his Spies abroad?
Pis. He is too great to fear, and needs them not: And him thou termest so, scorns the Office too.
Phi. What makest thou here then, when the whole World’s asleep? Be gone, there lies thy way, where’er thy business be.