12
Recit.—Phyllis
Nay, tempt me not.
To rank I'll not be bound:
In lowly cot
Alone is virtue found!
| Chorus. | Nay, do not shrink from us—we will not hurt you— The Peerage is not destitute of virtue. |
Ballad—Lord Tolloller.
Spurn not the nobly born
With love affected,
Nor treat with virtuous scorn
The well connected.
High rank involves no shame—
We boast an equal claim
With him of humble name
To be respected!
Blue blood! blue blood!
When virtuous love is sought
Thy power is naught,
Though dating from the flood,
Blue blood!
| Chorus. | Blue blood! Blue blood! &c. |
Spare us the bitter pain
Of stern denials,
Nor with lowborn disdain
Augment our trials.
Hearts just as pure and fair
May beat in Belgrave Square
As in the lowly air
Of Seven Dials!
Blue blood! Blue blood!
Of what avail art thou
To serve us now?
Though dating from the flood,
Blue blood!
| Chorus. | Blue blood! Blue blood! &c. |
Recit.—Phyllis.
My Lord, it may not be.
With grief my heart is riven!
You waste your words on me,
For ah! my heart is given!
| All | Given! |
| Phyll. | Given! |
| All. | Oh, horror!!! |
