Glen Collection of printed music > Printed text > Composite volume > Silvia; or, the country burial

J8 SI L V^i A 5 W,
Jon, As you fee, I ferve a Gentleman.
G. Bufy. Are you Married ?
Jon. My Mafter is a fingle Man, and won't keep any Body
that is married in his Family.
G. Bufy. Ay, Shame take thefe Gentlefolks; they would have
every Body as bad as themfelves. That muft be a fad Houfe,
that has never an honeft Woman in it.
Jon. We live as they do in moil Batchelors Families, very
lovingly- While my Mafter is entertaining theHoufe-keeper in
his Chamber, I am as civil to the Cook -maid in the Garret.
G. Bufy. O fad, O fad! what pity it is that young Men
ffoould ipend their Time unfruitfully with naughty Women ;
when, were they honeftly married, they might in a lawful way
do much good in their Generation. If you have any Thoughts
of Marriage, I have a Widow in my Eye, that would do very
well for you. She has fomething to bring you to, and is un-
der Thirty I allure you. While her Husband was in Health,
file brought him aChild every Year; but I oWt know how \t
fell out, he grew weary of her, and ? as it is fappos'd, thought
to have kill'd her with Kindnefs : but as it always happens in
thofe Cafes, he did his own Bufinefs inftead of hers, he fell in-
to a Confumptton and dy'd about a Month ago.
Jon. No 3 Goody Bufy, that will never do for me; a wanton
young Widow for a Wife, and a skittifli Horfe for a long
Journey, are two the mod troublefome things a Man can meet
withal.
G. Bufy, Perhaps you would rather have a Maid. Truly
they are ticklifli things, and I don't much care to meddle or
make with 'em. But I do know of a Farmer's Daughter, that
will fit you to a Hair. Her Father is a lufficient Man, and
will (lock a Farm for you. 'Tis true, indeed, (he has had one
Child; for I am a Woman of Integrity, and would not deceive
any Body in thefe matters for the World. They did not marry
her foon enough. But (he'll make an excellent ftirring Wife,
I'll warrant her.
Jon. A Maid that has had a Child, is worfe than a Widow
that's paft it. I don't like any Body that you have propos'd
half fo well as yourfelf.
G. Bufy. Now out upon you, for an idle Pack. Why thou
naughty, wanton, young Knave, what wouldft thou do with
me? Heaven help me, I am old, and fit for nothing.
Jon. Let me ask you a few Queftions, and you'U find you
are fit for every thing.
G> Bufy. Well, come on then.
AI R