Love without interest, or, The man too hard for the master a comedy : as it was acted at the Theatre Royal by His Majesty's servants.
About this Item
Title
Love without interest, or, The man too hard for the master a comedy : as it was acted at the Theatre Royal by His Majesty's servants.
Author
Pinkethman, William, d. 1725.
Publication
London :: Printed for Arthur Bettesworth ... and Richard Ellison ...,
1699.
Rights/Permissions
To the extent possible under law, the Text Creation Partnership has waived all copyright and related or neighboring rights to this keyboarded and encoded edition of the work described above, according to the terms of the CC0 1.0 Public Domain Dedication (http://creativecommons.org/publicdomain/zero/1.0/). This waiver does not extend to any page images or other supplementary files associated with this work, which may be protected by copyright or other license restrictions. Please go to http://www.textcreationpartnership.org/ for more information.
Cite this Item
"Love without interest, or, The man too hard for the master a comedy : as it was acted at the Theatre Royal by His Majesty's servants." In the digital collection Early English Books Online 2. https://name.umdl.umich.edu/A54093.0001.001. University of Michigan Library Digital Collections. Accessed May 20, 2024.
Pages
A SONG. To be Sung betwixt a Man and a Woman.
Man.
WHY so cruel to your Lover?Oh, the hidden Cause declare!
Wom.
'Twou'd be more cruel to discoverWhat must bring you to DispairMen, like Salvage Beast's, Love ranging,Here to day, and there at night;All our Fears are in your changingThat your darling cheif Delight
Ambo.
All our Fears, &c.
Man.
But so fresh a blooming Pasture.Me for ever will enclose;You need fear no such DisasterWhen I change, I'm sure to lose.
descriptionPage 40
He for ever will be kind,Who in Love his profit finds.
Ambo.
He for ever, &c.
Wom.
But when Envious Age at lostHas made all my Beauties bare;Then, like Land, that lies at wast,You'll not judge me worth your Care,No man thinks that worth his Pains,Where's all Labour and no Gains.
Ambo.
No man thinks, &c.
Man.
To convince you I'll be kind,I love where Time has no Controul,'Tis the Beauty of your MindThat has Charm'd my doating Soul:As frail Beauty does decline,Worth and Virtue briter shine.
Ambo.
As frail Beauty, &c.
email
Do you have questions about this content? Need to report a problem?
Please contact us.