The devil to pay: or, The wives metamorphos'd: An opera. . the rareft Man—he has told me myFortune. Job. Has he fo! and planted my Fortune too, a lufty pair ofBoms upon my Head Eh!——U% not fo? DqSI> 12 The Devil to Pay; Or, Do ft. Thy Wife is a virtuous Woman, and thoult be happy— Job. Come out, you Hang-dog, you Juggler, you cheating,bamboozjing Villain, muft I be cuckolded by fuch Rogues as youare, Mackmaticians, and Almanack-makers 1 Nell. Prythee Peace, Husband, we fhall be rich, and have aCoach of our own. Job. A Coach! a Cart, a Wheel-bar row, you Jade.—By theMackin, (hes drunk, blood


The devil to pay: or, The wives metamorphos'd: An opera. . the rareft Man—he has told me myFortune. Job. Has he fo! and planted my Fortune too, a lufty pair ofBoms upon my Head Eh!——U% not fo? DqSI> 12 The Devil to Pay; Or, Do ft. Thy Wife is a virtuous Woman, and thoult be happy— Job. Come out, you Hang-dog, you Juggler, you cheating,bamboozjing Villain, muft I be cuckolded by fuch Rogues as youare, Mackmaticians, and Almanack-makers 1 Nell. Prythee Peace, Husband, we fhall be rich, and have aCoach of our own. Job. A Coach! a Cart, a Wheel-bar row, you Jade.—By theMackin, (hes drunk, bloody drunk, moft confoundedly drunk.—--Get you to Bed, you Strumpet. {Beats her. Nell. O Mercy on us! is this a Tafte of my good For-tune ? Docl. You had better not have touchd her, you furlyRogue. Job. Out of my Houfe, you Villain, or Ill run my Awl upto the Handle in your Buttocks. Dott. Farewel, you paltry Slave. Job. Get out, you Rogue. [Exeunt. SCENE IV. Changes to an open Country. DOCTOR, foluu A I R VIII. The Spirits Song in Mackbeth. J^4. ^H sfe


Size: 2738px × 913px
Photo credit: © The Reading Room / Alamy / Afripics
License: Licensed
Model Released: No

Keywords: ., bookcentury1700, bookdecade1740, booksubjectoperas, bookyear1748