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4 The Fajhionable Lady$ or,
SCENE IV. Mean well, Modely, Ballad, and
Drama.
Bal. Well, Gentlemen, are you convinced ? Are you become
Converts to Englijh Opera's ? Has Mr. Drama enlightned your
Eyes, and improv'd your Understandings? Has he given ycu
new Ears, Signior Italiam ? Has he drove your Outlandifli
Flourifhers off the Stage ? Hah ! poor Rogues ! How they
look ! How they (tare ! My Eloquence confounds them. I am
certainly irifpir'd. I'll write Opera's my felf. 1*11 be the Hur-
hthrumbo of the Age, and have a Statue in Moor-Fields erected
to my Memory. What Papers are thofe, Drama 7 . Songs !
let's hear them, my dear Rogue! let them be a Prologue to our
Play : Come, tune, my Sons of Cat-gut ; my little Orpheus \r,
tickle it away. Law ! I wifh I was an Actor. I would fing
mod melodioufly, I would ravilh the Ladies with the Harmony
of my Voice. The Beaux from the Side- Box fhould cry, Bravo I
Braviffimo ! the Criticks in the Pit, Encore! Encore! the Gal-
lery crack with Applaufe; and the Knights of the Rainbow
thunder from on high, like a Herd of wild Afles in the Moun-
tains.
Drama. The Gentlemen of the Shoulder-Knot are much o-
blig'd to you for your Simile. But, fince your Voice is fo good,
pray entertain your Friends with this Song of your own com-
pofing.
Bal. Ay, ay, with all my Heart, faith : Singing one's own
Songs is a double Pleafure, 'tis like a beautiful ProfpeS on one's
own Eftate. Hem! hem! hem!
[ Reads. ] A Song, by way of Prologue, to the F*i(hionable
Lady, or Harlequin'/ Opera, by the IVorJhipful Chaunter
Ballad, Efq;
That's I, Gentlemen, that's I. I am the worfhipful Chaunter
Ballad, Efq; and the Author of this Song. Strike up, Fiddles.
AIR

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