[Enter Harper.] Play the French Tune, that Mrs. Slammekin was so
fond of.

[A Dance a la ronde in the French manner; near the end of it this
song and Chorus.]

AIR XXII. Cotillon.

Youth's the Season made for Joys,
Love is then our Duty,
She alone who that employs,
Well deserves her Beauty.
Let's be gay,
While we may,
Beauty's a Flower, despis'd in Decay.
Youth's the Season, &c.

Let us drink and sport to-day,
Ours is not to-morrow.
Love with Youth flies swift away,
Age is nought but Sorrow.
Dance and sing,
Time's on the Wing.
Life never knows the Return of Spring.
CHORUS. Let us drink, &c.

MACHEATH. Now, pray Ladies, take your Places. Here Fellow. [Pays
the Harper.] Bid the Drawer bring us more Wine. [Exit Harper.] If
any of the Ladies choose Ginn, I hope they will be so free to call
for it.