Chapter 30

[_To them_] MINCING.

MINC. The gentlemen stay but to comb, madam, and will wait on you.

MILLA. Desire Mrs. — that is in the next room, to sing the song I would have learnt yesterday. You shall hear it, madam. Not that there’s any great matter in it—but ’tis agreeable to my humour.

SONG. Set by Mr. JOHN ECCLES.

I

Love’s but the frailty of the mind When ’tis not with ambition joined; A sickly flame, which if not fed expires, And feeding, wastes in self-consuming fires.

II

’Tis not to wound a wanton boy Or am’rous youth, that gives the joy; But ’tis the glory to have pierced a swain For whom inferior beauties sighed in vain.

III

Then I alone the conquest prize, When I insult a rival’s eyes; If there’s delight in love, ’tis when I see That heart, which others bleed for, bleed for me.