The sultry suns of summer came

And he grew thick and strong,

His head weel arm'd wi' pointed spears, That no one should him wrong.

The sober autumn enter'd mild,
When he grew wan and pale;
His bending joints and drooping head
Show'd he began to fail.

His colour sicken'd more and more;

He faded into age:

And then his enemies began

To show their deadly rage.

They've taen a weapon long and sharp
And cut him by the knee :
Then ty'd him fast upon a cart,
Like a rogue for forgery,

They laid him down upon his back
And cudgell'd him full sore:
They hung him up before the storm,
And turn'd him o'er and o'er.

They filled up a darksome pit

With water to the brim,

Then heaved in John Barleycorn,
There let him sink or swim.

They laid him out upon the floor
To work his farther woe,
And still, as signs of life appear'd,
They toss'd him to and fro.

They wasted o'er a scorching flame

The marrow of his bones :

But a miller us'd him worst of all,

For he crush'd him between two stones.

And they hae taen his very heart's blood, And drank it round and round;

And still the more and more they drank Their joy did more abound.

John Barleycorn was a hero bold,

Of noble enterprize :

For if you do but taste his blood

'Twill make your courage rise.

'Twill make a man forget his woe; 'Twill heighten all his joy :

'Twill make the widow's heart to sing, Though the tear were in her eye.

Then let us toast John Barleycorn,
Each man a glass in hand :
And may his great posterity

Ne'er fail in auld Scotland!

END.

AFRICAN LOVE,

A COMEDY.

Amor loco

A dos fidalgos disparó la flecha.

LOPE DE VEGA. El guante de dona Blanca.

M

CHARACTERS REPRESENTED.

SIDI NOUMAN.

ZEIN-BEN-HUMEIDA.

BABA MUSTAPHA.

MOJANA.

SCENE-Cordova, during the reign of Abderam.

AFRICAN LOVE,

SCENE I.

A Pavilion in the Garden of Sidi Nouman.(1)
SIDI NOUMAN,-BABA MUSTAPHA.

SIDI NOUMAN.

Well! what's become of Zeïn?

BABA MUSTAPHA.

Omar, the Caliph's guard, has this instant given me intelligence of him.

Speak!

SIDI NOUMAN.

BABA MUSTAPHA.

He saw him yesterday in the slave-market: your friend was speaking to one of the merchants; all at once he throws himself on his horse and gallops off by the gate Djem-Djem.

SIDI NOUMAN.

And the slave-merchant-which is he?

BABA MUSTAPHA.

Your highness, I believe it's old Abou Taher; he who yesterday sold you the beautiful Mojana.