TRUE-BLUE; OR THE PRESS-GANG.
TRUE-BLUE; OR, THE PRESS-GANG, A MUSICAL INTERLUDE? As revived at the THEATRE-ROYAL In COVENT-GARDEN.
LONDON:
Printed in the Year 1770. Sold by J. BELL, near Exeter Exchange in the Strand; J. COOPER, Printer, Drury-lane; and at the THEATRE.
Price SIX-PENCE.
CHARACTERS.
Trueblue,
Mr. MATTOCKS:
Lieut. Dreadnought,
Mr. REINHOLD.
Careful
(Nancy
's Father)
Mr. BAKER.
Nancy,
Mr. MATTOCKS.
Jolly Tars, Singers, Dancers, &c.
TRUE-BLUE, &c.
SCENE
a Village.
TRUEBLUE
and
NANCY
discovered.
AIR I.
TO be gazing on those Charms;
To be solded in those Arms;
To unite my Lips with those,
Whence eternal Sweetness flows;
To be lov'd by one so fair,
Is to be blest beyond compare.
On my Dearest to recline,
While his Hand is lock'd in mine:
In those eyes myself to view,
Gazing still and still on you:
In thy Arms while thus I'm blest,
Of every Joy I am possess'd.
Both repeat—
In thy Arms,
&c.
[While they are embracing, the
Lieutenant
enters with his Gang, and presses him.
RECITATIVE.
Sir, you must learn another Song to sing;
Come, come along with me, and serve the King.
AIR II.
[Kneeling.
I.
Oh! where will you hurry my Dearest;
Say, say, to what Clime, or what Shore?
You tear him from me, the sincerest
That ever lov'd Mortal before.
II.
Oh, cruel! hard-hearted, to press him,
And force the fond Swain from my Arms!
Restore him, that I may caress him,
And shield him from future Alarms.
[The
Lieutenant
putting her away she rises.
III.
In vain you insult and deride me,
And make but a Scoff of my Woes;
You ne'er from my Dear shall divide me,
I'll follow wherever he goes.
IV.
Think not of the merciless Oc
an
My Soul any Terror can have;
For as soon as the Ship makes its Motion,
So soon shall the Sea be my Grave.
AIR III.
I.
Honour calls, he must obey:
Love to Glory must give Way:
With Heart prepar'd, each British Tar
Pants, by Turns, for Love and War.
II.
Plead no more, but bid him go,
Bid him brave his Country's Foe.
Triumphant after all his Toils,
He shall return with warlike Spoils
AIR IV.
DIALOGUE.
And can'st thou leave thy
Nancy,
And quit thy native Shore?
It comes into my Fancy,
I ne'er shall see thee more.
Yes, I must leave my
Nancy,
To plow the boisterous Main;
Let Fear ne'er fill thy Fancy,
For we shall meet again.
Amidst the foaming Billows,
Where thund'ring Cannons roar,
You'll think on these green Willows,
And wish yourself on Shore.
Nor Fire, nor Sword appall me
When Glory points the way;
Great
George
and
England
call me,
And I with Joy obey.
May Guardian Gods protect thee,
From Water, Fire or Steel;
And may no Fears affect thee,
Like those which now I feel.
I leave to Heaven's Protection,
My Life, my only Dear;
You have my Soul's Affection,
So still conclude me here.
I leave to Heaven's Protection,
My Life, my only Dear;
So fond is my Affection,
That still I wish you here.
[While they are embracing,
Nancy's
Father comes behind and pulls her from him.
AIR V.
I.
Daughter, you're too young to marry.
'Tis too soon to be a Wife;
Yet a little longer tarry,
E'er you know the Cares of Life.
Wedlock is a fickle Station,
Sometimes Sweetness, sometimes Strife;
Oh! how great the Alteration,
'Twixt the Maiden and the Wife!
II.
Love and Courtship are but stupid,
Glory has superior Charms;
Mars
should triumph over
Cupid,
When
Britannia
calls to Arms.
As for you, Sir, do your Duty,
O! were I but young again,
I'd not dangle after Beauty,
But go play my Part with
Spain.
AIR last.
Now away, my brave Boys, hoist the Flag, beat the Drum,
Let our Streamers wave over the Main:
When old
England
calls us, we merrily come,
She can't call a Sailor in vain;
Already we seem an
Armada
to chace,
Already behold the Galleons;
Undaunted, unconquer'd, look Death in the Face,
And return with a Load of Doubloons.
Already we seem an
Armada
to chace,
Already behold the Galleons;
Undaunted, unconquer'd, look Death in the Face,
And return with a Load of Doubloons.
Then farewel, for a Time, lovely Sweethearts, dear Wives!
Nancy,
fear not the Fate of
True-blue;
Tho' we leave you, and merrily venture our Lives,
To our Doxies we'll ever be true;
With Spirit we go an
Armada
to chace,
With Rapture behold the Galleons,
Undaunted, unconquer'd, look Death in the Face,
And return with a load of Doubloons.
With Spirit we go an
Armada
to chace,
With Rapture behold the Galleons;
Undaunted, unconquer'd, look Death in the Face,
And return with a Load of Doubloons.
FINIS.