Euph. To Esop.] Had I not Reason, from your constant Goodness,
To judge your Bounty, Sir, is infinite,
I shou'd not dare to sue for farther Favours:
But pardon me, if imitating Heaven and you,
I easily forgive my aged Father,
And beg that Esop would forgive him too.
[Kneeling to him.
Esop. The Injury he wou'd have done to you was great indeed: But 'twas a Blessing he design'd for me. If, therefore, you can pardon him, I may. [To Lear.] Your injur'd Daughter, Sir, has on her Knees intreated for her cruel, barbarous Father; and by her Goodness has obtain'd her Suit. If, in the Remnant of your Days, you can find out some way to recompense her, do it, that Men and Gods may pardon you, as she and I have done. But, let me see, I have one Quarrel still to make up. Where's my old Friend Doris?
Dor. She's here, Sir, at your Service; and as much your Friend as ever; true to her Principles, and firm to her Mistress. But she has a much better Opinion of you now than she had half an Hour ago.
Esop. She has reason: For my Soul appear'd then as deform'd as my Body. But I hope now, one may so far mediate for t'other, that, provided I don't make Love, the Women won't quarrel with me; for they are worse Enemies even than they are Friends. Come, Gentlemen, I'll humour my Dress a little longer, and share with you in the Diversions these boon Companions have prepar'd us. Let's take our Places, and see how they can divert us.
Esop leads the Bride to her Place. All being seated, there's a short Concert of Hautboys, Trumpets, &c. After which a Dance between an old Man and a young Woman, who shuns him still at he comes near her. At last he stops, and begins this Dialogue, which they sing together.
Old Man.
Why so cold, and why so coy?
What I want in Youth and Fire,
I have in Love and in Desire:
To my Arms, my Love, my Joy!
Why so cold, and why so coy?
Woman.
'Tis Sympathy, perhaps, with you;
You are cold, and I'm so too..