E WITCHES. _Sung by Mrs._
HUDSON, _and Set by Mr._ JOHN ECCLES.

[Music]

Tormenting Beauty leave my Breast,
In spight of _Cloe_ I'll have rest;
In vain is all her Syren Art,
Still longer to hold my troubled Heart:
For I'm resolv'd to break the Chain,
And o'er her Charms the Conquest gain,
And o'er her Charms the Conquest gain.

Insulting Beauty I have born,
Too long your Female Pride and scorn;
Too long have been your Publick Jest,
Your common Theme at ev'ry Feast:
Let others thee, vain Fair, pursue,
Whilst I for ever bid adieu,
Whilst I for ever bid adieu.

_A_ SONG _in the Comedy call'd_, The Wives Excuse: _Or_, Cuckolds make
themselves. _Sung by Mr._ Mountford. _Set by Mr._ HENRY PURCELL.

Say cruel _Amoret_, how long, how long,
In Billet-doux, and humble Song;
Shall poor _Alexis_, shall poor _Alexis_, poor _Alexis_ wooe?
If neither Writing, Sighing, Sighing, Dying,
Reduce you to a soft complying,
Oh, oh, oh, oh, when will you come too.

Full Thirteen Moons are now past o'er,
Since first those Stars I did adore,
That set my Heart on fire:
The conscious Play-house, Parks and Court,
Have seen my sufferings made your sport,
Yet I am ne'er the nigher.

A faithful Lover shou'd deserve,
A better Face, than thus to starve:
In sight of such a Feast;
But oh! if you'll not think it fit,
Your hungry Slave shou'd taste on bit;
Gives some kind looks at least.

_The Double Lover's Request._

[Music]

Such command o'er my Fate has your Love or your hate,
That nothing can make me more wretched or great:
Whilst expiring I lie, to live or to die,
Thus doubtful the Sentence of such I rely:
Your Tongue bids me go, tho' your Eyes say not so,
But much kinder Words from their Language do flow.

Then leave me not here, thus between Hope and Fear,
Tho' your Love cannot come, let your pity appear;
But this my request, you must grant me at least,
And more I'll not ask, but to you leave the rest;
If my fate I must meet, let it be at your Feet,
Death there with more joy, than else-where I wou'd greet.

_A_ SONG, _Set by Mr._ ROB. KING.

[Music]

Tell me why so long you try me,
Still I follow, still you fly me;
Will the race be never done,
Will it be ever but begun:
Could I quit my Love for you,
I'd ne'er love more what e'er I do;
When I speak truth, you think I lie,