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THOMAS'S
BURLESQUE DRAMA.




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THOMAS'S
BURLESQUE DRAMA,
EMBELLISHED 42 Q e w
WITH SIXTY TWO ENGRAVINGS,
FROM ORIGINAL DESIGNS,
BY
GEORCE AND ROBERT CRUIKSHANK.


L ONDON:
JOSEPH THOMAS, I, FINCH LANE, CORNHILL.
SOLD BY SIM'KIN AND MARSHALL.


1838.




CONTENTS.
THE TAILORS,
BOMBASTES FURIOSO,
MIDAS,
TOM THUMB,
THE MAYOR OF GARRATT,
THE BEGGARS' OPERA,
KATHARINE AND PETRUCHIO.


WILLOU4111MY & CO., PhfKTERS, 109, U0OAW1ELL 5TSRRET.




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THE TAILORS,
(OR " QUADRUPEDS,")
A TRAGEDY FOR WARM WEATHER.
IN THREE ACTS,
AS PERFORMED AT THE THEATRES ROYAL.
ILLUBTRATXD WITH ORIGINAL DRSIGNS, H3I
ROBERT CRUIKSHANK,
ENGRAVED BY
WRIGHT &FOLKARD, ARMSTRONG, P. CRUIKSHIAHK, AND STARLING.
WITH INTRODUCTORY REMARKCS BY
RICHARD RYAN.
"1HAIL, SACRED NINE."-4. CJDBBAGE.
LONDON:
JOSEPH THOMAS, FINCH LANE, CORNHILL,
SOLD BY SIMPKIN AND MARSHALL, STATIONERS, COURT.
1836.




LONDON:
J. t'NITIN, ST. PETER'S ALLEY
CORN HLLL.




PREFATORY REMARKS.
TAILORS have been, from time immemorial, considered as
fair marks for the shafts of satire. Shakespeare introduces a
splendid specimen of "the gentle craft" in Katherine and
Petruchio; and what a superb scene he has created out of
this " ninth part of a man." How convulsive is every hop he
gives over Petruchio's sword, and how merrily it is acknowledged by the laughter-loving audience.
Massinger, in " The New Way to Pay Old Debts," introduces a Tailor who has been reduced to " a mere botcher," by
the profligacy of Master Wellborn, but although a ruined
man, the dramatist cannot let him pass without a slap at him;
at the same time inculcating the gross absurdity of young
gentlemen paying for their clothes with precision and regularity,-making Master Wellborn remark, that " if a Tailor
is paid but once in twenty years, he seldom is a loser."
The comic stage writers of later days have gone even
further than this assertion, and have endeavoured to impress
upon their audiences the absolute iniquity of paying a Tailor
at all. Jerrold, in his Historical Drama of " Nell Gwynne,"
makes Charles II. wittily observe, " Never pay a Tailor,
because sin was the occasion of their trade;" a truism which
cannot well be disputed.
Having made these few remarks, which we trust our
readers will not deem an irrelevant introduction t6 the contents of this little volume, we now inform them that the
Dramatic Burlesque of " The Tailors, a Tragedy for Warm
Weather," proceeded from the pen of Samuel Foote, known
as " The English Aristophanes," and was originally acted
at the. Haymarket Theatre, in the summer of 1767;-Foote,
Bannister, Shuter, Palmer, and Weston, sustaining the principal parts. The intent of the author was decidedly not to
write any thing personally offensive to that useful class of the
community,-the Tailors,-but to hold up to ridicule those
bombastic passages in popular Tragedies, where the heroes and
the heroines express all their emotions in the most inflated
language, thereby furnishing the satirist with a series of scenes
the best adapted to burlesque and parody. Foote avails him,
i       a                A2




6
self of these, and feeling that the fun would be greatly increased
by making his Dramatis Personae-Tailors-he accordingly
presses them into the service.
There is great merit in the piece, not only on account of
the whimsical correctness with which the Tragic Authors
are parodied,-but its construction as an Acting Drama is
admirably managed; the scenic effects are ludicrous to a
degree, and whenever the stage can boast of burlesque
actors sufficient to warrant its production, its revival is
always attended with success.  To this statement, however, one exception must be made, which occurred in August,
1805, at the Haymarket Theatre, on Mr. Dowton attempting
to revive this burlesque, for his benefit. After it was announced for representation, the Tailors declared, both openly
and by anonymous letters to the managers, that if the piece
were brought forward, they would go in a body to the house,
and there take summary vengeance. The proprietors, however, having gone to great expense in getting up the performance, were resolved to bring it forward.  Mr. Dowton also
received several letters, warning him of the consequences
attending its production, all of which he very properly disregarded.
At an early hour, in the afternoon of August 15, about 700
persons, mostly Tailors, were waiting to gain admittance to
the theatre at the opening of the doors. The greater portion
went to the galleries, while some took their station in the
pit, and the moment they got in, commenced shouting and
knocking their sticks in the most turbulent manner. The
utmost noise and confusion prevailed in the house, and when
the curtain rose there was a general cry of " Dowton,"
" Dowton!" Mr. Dowton came forward, but the tumult increased, and there were loud shouts of " No Dowton," " No
Dowton I" He attempted to speak, but could not be heard;
the uproar now greatly increased, a Tailor's thimble and a
pair of scissors were thrown from the shilling gallery on the
stage; they passed very near to Mr. Dowton, and he took
them up, and coming to the front, said, " I would give twenty
guineas to know who threw these scissors"; this proceeding
so alarmed some ladies in the stage box that at their request
he left the stage.
The noise continuing with increased violence, the managers
despaired of obtaining a hearing in the usual way, and had re



7


course to the exhibition of a large board, whereon they desired
to know the pleasure of the audience. Papers were handed up
to the galleries and every possible intimation was given that the
offensive piece should be withdrawn, and the farce of " The
Village Lawyer" substituted. This, however, did not produce a cessation of hostilities; and about nine o'clock, the
managers finding it impossible to procure peace, despatched a
messenger to Mr. Graham, the magistrate at Bow Street,
who soon arrived with some officers, and having sworn in
several extra constables, proceeded to the galleries, and seizing
on the ring-leaders, took about a dozen of the rioters into
custody and lodged them in St. Martin's watch house.
After " Catherine and Petruchio," the curtain being drawn
up, discovered three Tailors seated upon a board,-the uproar
became universal-loud vociferations of every kind were heard,
and a very strong opposition was again formidably manifested.
The Bow Street Officers made their appearance a second
time, and eventually several of the most riotous were dragged
out of the house. The piece then proceeded, but in consequence of these interruptions, it was nearly one o'clock before
the performance was over. A party of the Horse Guards
patrolled up and down the Haymarket, and remained there
until the crowd had dispersed.
After this affray, '" The Tailors" lay dormant, until its
revival at the Lyceum Theatre, to afford the late Mr.
Lovegrove an opportunity of exciting the risible faculties in
Abrahamides; its success was most decided, and supported by
Oxberry, who was a very fine burlesque actor, —it was performed to many laughter-loving audiences.
The next representative of Abrahamides, of any note, in
London, was John Reeve, who, as a performer of burlesque
tragedy, is entitled to the appellation of a leviathan;-"none
but himself can be his parallel;"-naturally redolent with
every variety of broad humour and whimsical fun, he unites
each physical requisite necessary to the embodying of all his
droll and ludicrous imaginings. Those who have not witnessed his performance of mock tragedy, can have but a faint
idea of the grotesque. His huge rolling eye,-his broad ungainly figure, assisted by stage costume,-and the succession
of absurdities he illustrates in his deportment, must be seen
to be appreciated.  He is the Gillray, Rowlandson, and
Cruikshank of his art, combined,-presenting the lights and




8


shades of caricature, with a fidelity, richness, and breadth
equal to all three of these children of Apelles.
Feeling how congenial the labour would be to the pencil
of the caricaturist, if employed in illustrating Foote's mock
tragedy, we prevailed on Mr. Robert Cruikshank to furnish
us with sundry designs, in which he has displayed considerable
originality, together with that peculiar spirit and whimsical
conception which have created for him so much popularity.
We do not think we ought to conclude without presenting
our readers with some slight notice of SAMUEL FOOTE, the
author of 1' The Tailors," who as actor, author, and wit,
occupied so prominent a station in the theatrical history of
his age,-whose farces and whose repartees have descended
hand in hand to posterity, and seem to acquire in each succeeding epoch, fresh vigour and immortality.
Our author was a native of Truro, in Cornwall, where he
was born about the year 1720. He was educated at Worcester
College, Oxford, on leaving which he entered himself of the
Temple, where he continued several years-not studying the
law, but devoting his time and energies to the gaming table.
He married, experienced various vicissitudes of fortune, and
at length betook himself to the stage, to obtain the necessaries of life. Under the auspices of Macklin, he made his
debut in "Othello," in February, 1744; failing in tragedy,
he then tried comedy, and performed Lord Foppington, but
was equally unsuccessful. He accordingly struck out a new
path for himself, by appearing in the double character of
author and performer, and opened the Haymarket Theatre in
the spring of 1747, with a new piece of his own writing, called
" The Diversions of the Morning."  After the success of this
" Monologue," he invited the public " To Tea," and his
invitation was accepted with avidity.
After this he produced the various Farces, that have
ranked him so high as a Dramatic Author, enjoying the
friendship of Garrick, and the distinguished host of literati,
and first-rate actors, that illumined the stage at this particular
period.
In 1766, by being thrown from his horse one of his legs
were broken in such a manner as to require amputation; this
did not affect the exercise of his abilities, but in 1777, finding
his health decline, he disposed of his property in the Haymarket Theatre, to Mr. George Colman, and being advised




9
by his physicians to try the South of France, with this intent
he reached Dover on the 20th of October, where he died on
the day following, in the fiftyseventh year of his age. T1he
body was removed to London, and was interred in Westmsinster Abbey by torch-light.R..
DRAMATIS PERSONAE.


Franeisco
Campbelio
Pearcey.
Biagglestonon
Regniades
Abrahamides,
Bernardo
Christophorides
Humnphryminos
Bartholomeus
Isaacos.
Jack, alias Jackides
Zachariades
Ralpho.
Timotlhens
I'hilippossnevos
Dorothea.
Tittiffinda
Tinderella
Mopperella
Bilsusidora


MA&TezR TAILORS.
As Originally Cast      As Cast in
in 1762.             1805.
Mr. Foote..   Mr. Dowton
Mr. Bannister..Mr. Clifford
Mr. Garaner...Mr. Grove
Mr. Newton...Mr. Campbell
Mr. Castle.      Mr. Smith
FLINTS.
Mr. Shuter...Mr. Mathews
Mr. Davis...Mr. De Camp
Mr. Pierce
Mr. Loveman....Mr. Myers
Mr. Smithl...    Mr. Hatton
Mr. Palmer...Mr. Palmer
Mr. Weston...Mr. Denman
Mr. Gardner...Mr. Liston
Mr. Strange...Mr. Wilkins
Mr. Pyan
Mr. Keen...Mr. Wharton
TAILORs' LASI ES.
Mrs. Jetl'eries.  Mrs. Harlowe
Mrs. Gardner....Mrs. Gibbs
Mrs. Burden
Mrs. Kirby
Mrs. Dynston...Miss Vining


STAGE DIRECTIONS.
R. means Right.-L. Lqft,-C. Centre.
The lines distinguished by inverted commas ("1) are omitted in
the representati~on.




10


DRAMATIS PERSONS,
As performed at the Adelphi Theatre, 1835.
Francisco, Mr. WILKINSON.-A gray suit with black buttons,
short black cut wig, shoes and buckles, rolls of flannel
round his legs.
Pearcey, Mrs. BucKSTONE.-Short black coat buttoned close
up to the neck, black smalls, blue striped stockings,
short half boots, and small cocked hat.
Hagglestonon, Mr. GIBsON.-Short blue coat, black waistcoat,
gray smalls, black stockings, and black stock.
Regniades, Mr. FOSTER —Green long-tailed coat, flowered
waistcoat, short black trowsers, and light blue stockings.
Campbello, Signor PAULO.-Brown suit, (very old.)
Abrahamides, Mr. REEVE.-A light gray coat, large flowered
waistcoat, black smalls, red stockings above the knee,
shoes and buckles, long black straight-haired wig, large
hat, large light brown cloak, gauntlets, black belt.
Bernardo, Mr. SANDERS.-Red smalls, blue striped stockings,
old black coat, and hat without crown.
Humphryminos, Mr. MORRIS.-Very old black suit, no
stockings.
Bartholomeus, Mr. KING.-Light yellow coat, with black
buttons, black smalls, short black cut wig, and red
stockings.
Isaacos, Mr. GALLOT.-Red striped stockings, black smalls,
old court waistcoat, and brown coat, with one skirt.
Jackides, Mr. GREEN.-Red smalls, long black boots, short
gray jacket, and red wig.
Timotheus, Mr. SHAw.-Flowered suit, cut velvet very old,
long black boots, large cocked hat, and black wig.
Christophorides, Mr. BROW         fashioned  uits, some
Mr. PRICE.               O    faone sts, some.
Philippomenos, Mr. WILSON.     whatdamaged.
Dorothea, Miss DALY.-White apron and petticoat, brown
gown (rumpet up,) large cap with red ribbons, black
silk mitts, shoes and buckles.
Tittillinda, Miss NOVELLo.-Red petticoat, flowered gown,
and white apron.
Mopperella, Mrs. DALY.-Brown quilted petticoat, large
flowered gown, full cap with crimson ribbons, high
heeled shoes and buckles.
Bknoidora.-Red gown, white petticoat, and black apron




PROLOGUE.
WRITTEN BY DAVID GARRICK, ESQ.
SPOKEN BY MR. FOOTE.
THIS night we add some heroes to our store,
Who never were as heroes known before;
No blustering Romans, Trojans, Greeks, shall rage,No knights arm'd cap-a-pie shall crowd our stage;
Nor shall our Henrys, Edwards, take the field,
Opposing sword to sword, and shield to shield;
With different instruments our troop appears,
Needles to thimbles shall, and shears to shears.
With parchment gorgets, and in buckram armed,
Cold-blooded Tailors are to heroes warmed,
And slip-shod slide to war. No lion's glare,
No eye-balls darting fire, shall make you stare:
Each outside shall belie the stuff within,
A Roman spirit in a Tailor's skin.
A cross-legged Cassius, Pompey, shall you see,
And the ninth part of Brutus strut in me.
What tho' no swords we draw, no daggers shake,
Yet can our warriors a "I quietus make,
A" With a bare bodkin."-Then be dumb, ye railers,
And never, but in honour, call out Tailors!
But are these heroes tragic, you will cry?
Oh! very tragic-and I'll tell you whyShould female artists with the male combine,
And Mantua-makers to the Tailors join,




PROLOGUE.


Should all, too proud to work, their trades give o'er,
Not to be softened by the sixpence more,What horrors would ensue!-First, you, ye beaux,
Would forfeit all existence with your clothes.
Then you, ye fair, where would be your defence?
This is no golden age of innocence.
Should drunken Bacchanals the Graces meet,
And no police protect the naked street,Beauty is weak, and passion bold and strong:Oh! then-but modesty restrains my tongue.
May this night's bard a skilful Tailor be,
And like a well-made coat his tragedy;
Tho' close, yet easy; decent, but not dull;
Short, but not scanty; without buckram, full!


TAILORS' COAT OF ARMS.




THE TAILORS.
ACT I.
SCENE T.-A Tailor's Work-shop.
A)RAHAMIDES discovered in C. and Four Tailors on
Shop-board at Work.     Enter BERNARDO    and
BARTH OLOMEUS.-L.
ABR. Welcome, Befiardo!-Now, what say our
friends?
BERN. Great Abrahamides, the chief of all,
Who led th' embattled Tailors first to war,
Success attends you to your utmost wish;Behold! the brave Bartholomeus is come,
Willing to hear, and aid your utmost aim.
ABR. His mien is noble, and bespeaks the Tailor
Not of the Dunghill and degenerate race,
"fut such as the brave Elliot led to battle.
Will he not bend before a master's frown?
Or flow dissolving in the tankard's tears?
BERM. Injurious thought!.
BART. To ease you of your fears,
I will retire;-you'll one day know me better.
B




THE TAILORS.


ABR. Forgive me, stranger, if, in caution old,
I fear to trust appearance e'en like thine.
Whence and what art thou?
BART. In Wapping's distant realm I drew my
breath;
Where long my father held his peaceful sway.
Fired with the love of liberty and beer,
Urged by Bernardo's friendship, I am come
To offer aid,-if aid, so mean as mine,
Can aught avail a cause so great, so just!
ABR. Say, who thy sire?
BART. The old Bartholomeus.
ABR. Thrice happy omen! Welcome to my arms,
Thou generous son of that brave man I loved;
We oft in early youth together worked,
On the same board together cross-legged sat;
In summer cucumbers, in winter cabbages,
Together eat. Oft at the skittle-groundBERN. Consider, sir, this time admits no pause
For friendship's softer ties: one hour, perhaps,
Decides our utmost fate!
ABR. Well urged Bernardo.-Say, thou generous
youth,
How stands thy state? speak, if in peace or war?
BART. In peace profound with all the neighbouring
chiefs;
Nor that alone; for amity's strict league
Unites us all.-Far on the adverse coast,
As far as Redriff's ample range extends,
Great Christophorides resides in state.
While northward, to Whitechapel's awful mount,
The great Humphrymiffos, renowned in arms,
Leads the tremendous sons of Spitalfields.
BERN. What are your numbers, andhow disciplined?




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THE TAILORS.


17


BART. Full fifteen hundred men complete in arms.
ABR. A goodly band! Now, gallant stranger, hear!
By good intelligence I'm well informed,
The tyrant masters meet in close divan,
At the Five Bells. Part of their dark design
Is known, the rest concealed; but I've ta'en care
To place Isaacos, with a chosen band,
Instructed to discover, or disturb
Their inmost councils from their destined aim;
Be it thy care to haste, Humphryminos
And Chrystophorides, to this night's council;
While each subaltern chief prepares the men.
BART. I will, brave chief.-Where is the council
held?
ABR. Why, at the Orange Tree, in White Hart
yard.
BART. Till then, farewell!
ABR. Nay, quick! be Mercury;
Set feathers to thy heels, and fly like thought,
From me to them, from them to me again!
BART. The spirit of the time shall teach me speed.
[Exit. L.
BERN. Spoke like a sprightly Tailor!
ABR. A gallant youth!
Bernardo, ere the midnight clock has struck,
Be thou with me; some doubts perplex my breast
Which this night's council must or clear or cure.
[Exit. with Tailors.-R.
SCENE II.-An apartment in Francisco's house,
Enter FRANCISCO, followed by DOROTHEA.-L.
DOR. Francisco, stay! unkind Francisco, stay!
Nor let thy Dorothea plead in vain;
B 2




THE TAILORS.


Consider, love, thy swaddled legs, thy gout, and all
thy pains.
FRAN. Cease, Dorothea, to perplex my breast
With idle fears; whene'er my duty calls,
Thou know'st, nor gout, nor rheumatism can stop me;
Cease, then, to ask for what I must deny.
DOR. True, I'm a woman; therefore full of fear;
But tho' my body's weak, my mind is noble,
For that is full of thee: on thee I gaze,
Watch every virtue, catch the kindling flame!
Cease, then, to tax thy Dorothea's heart
With idle fears; those fears are all for thee!
Oh, but this night absent thyself from council,
And Dorothea then will ask no more!
FRAN. It cannot, must not be.
DOR. Cannot? must not?
FRAN. Ah, no!
DOR. And yet there was a time, my Franky,
When Dolly might obtain a greater suit;
If she but looked as if she had a want,
Thy penetrating eyes, and generous heart,
Watched every look, prevented every wish;There was a time, when in the afternoon,
As you prepared to take your usual nap,
No pillow pleased but Dorothea's breast;
When to the last your eyes would gaze on her,
Till poppey sleep oppressed them; she with joy
Strok'd thy lank cheeks, and lulled thy soul to rest;
But, ah! that time (I know not why) is past.
FRAN. Oh, peace! thou fair upbraider, chide no
more!
Thou know'st my heart still glows with fondness for
thee;
But, go I must; the fate of all the trade




THE TAILORS.


19


Depends on this night's council; 'tis decisive.
Campbello, the great father of the trade,
With his own hand hath summoned: absence now
Would cast reproach on all my former fame!
DOR. Oh, didst thou know but all, thou wouldst
not go.
FRAN. What means my love?
DOR. Alas, I fear to tell!
FRAN. Keep me not on the rack!-perplex no more,
But tell me all!
DOR. Wilt thou not chide me then?
FRAN. Chide thee, my love?
DOR. Oh, smooth that angry brow,
I'll tell thee all!-Last night, I had a dream!
FRAN. A dream! a dream!
DOR. Nay, hear me, ere you blame!Methought you took me in a one-horse chaise,
Unto the Star and Garter, Richmond Hill.
Placid and pleased, we had a charming ride;
But, while we gazed on the rich prospect round,
Sudden, methought, I stumbled; anxious fear
Urged me to catch at thee-at thee, my love,
My best support-but thou, alas! wert gone!
When, lo! far off, the bottom of the hill,
I saw thee rising from the watery Thames,
All dripping wet! with eager haste I ran:
As I drew nigh, what words can paint my fears,
When I beheld blood trickling down thy face:
At that sad sight I waked with horror!
FRAN. Wet?
DOR. Dripping wet!
FRAN. And bloody too?
DOR. All a gore blood! and from that hour to this,
Remembrance chills me with the very thought!




THE TAILORS.


FRAN. Trust me, -my love, my heart recoils with
fear!
DoR. Oh, seize the happy omen! stay at home!
I'll send a message, that you're sick in bed.
FRAN. What, for a dream! no; it shall ne'er be said
A dream could awe a Master Tailor's soul!
Besides, inform me, what's this dream to me,
More than the world in general?
DOR. Gallant man!              [Fran. going.
Yet, stay, Francisco, stay!
FRAN. Thou plead'st in vain!
How would St. Clement's sons, renowned in art,
And their proud dames, (whose mantuas sweep the
ground,
With heads made up of wool and rumps of cork)
Attaint the lustre of Francisco's name,
Should it be known, a dream could e'er deter
Him from his duty! no; come what come may,
I'm fixed to go; for 'tis our council-day.
DOR. Oh, rigid virtue! more than stoic pride!
Since thou wilt go, leave not thy cloak behind;
Screen thy loved self, thy Dolly's dearer half,
From the dank dew, and each unkindly fog:
Sure rigid honour does not that forbid.
FRAN. In that, and every thing that's free from
shame,
Francisco lives but to oblige his Dolly.
DOR. 'Tis kindly said.-Who waits without?
come in!
Enter MOPPBRELLA.
Forth from the clothes press fetch, the red roqueleau.
[Mopperella goes out, and returns with a roqueleau,
and small bottle.




THB TAILORS.


21


And now, one parting kiss! one more! farewell.
Remember well-hold, hold, my boding heart!Whate'er Francisco's fate, his Dolly suffers!
Oh, my Francisco!
FRAN. Oh, my Dorothea!
[Exeunt, Fran. R.-Mop. L.
SCENE III.-A Room at the Five Bells.
CAMPBELLO, HAGGLESTONON, PEARCEY, FRANCISCO,
REONIADES, &C., in council, all seated at a table,
with pipes, bottles, mugs, &ic.
CAMP. My friends, a set of worthy men you are,
Prudent and just, and careful for the trade.
In various meetings and with long debate,
With no small toil, at length it was resolved,
This night's conclusive meeting crowns the whole;
Whether by open war or covert guile,
We now debate: who can advise, may speak!
HAG. 'Tis true, this point demands our utmost care;
And since no generous usage can restrain
Those sons of riot, harsher means be tried!
For if their insults you unpunished bear,
A train of horrid ills will soon ensue,
E'en to the ruin of our antique trade.
Therefore, by my advice, be forthwith raised
A large subscription, placed in proper hands,
Which may let loose the merciless stern law
To hunt the slaves, like hell-hounds, thro' the world!
PEAR. Much I approve great Hagglestonon's plan.
United firmly, we have nought to fear;
But if in our own body should be found
Some hollow bosoms,-men, who, void of shame,
Prefer ignoble ease to glorious toil,




22


THE TAILORS.


And meanly with their rude demands comply;
Should there be such (as worthy cause I have
To fear there are,) where is your remedy?
To what end serves the patriot's honest toil,
If silken slaves of ease thus bar success?
Ills such as these who can prevent or cure?
REo. That can I.
Sage Latitatos, learned in the law,
With much sound wisdom proved that not alone
The rebels who demand, but all who give
More than the stated price assigned by law,
Are liable to prosecution deep.
Be it thy care, oh, father of the trade,
Thou sage Campbello, with thy utmost strength
And speed, to forward Hagglestonon's plan;
Spare no offender! then we soon shall know
Our friends from foes; as all the wise prefer
An avowed enemy to a doubtful friend.
FRAN. Rude am I in my speech, and little skilled
In soft persuasive arts; but yet, I trust
By facts my injured character to save.
Nor need I now relate, oh, Tailors, here,
The services which I have done the trade,
They are all known; Arts such as these I leave
To them, who think that boasting gives them honour.
Yet some, in justice to myself, I must —
When, at the time of general mourning, all
To Bedfordbury and to White-hart-yard,
Straight ran in crowds, with haste to intercept
Each other's men, submitting to their terms,
Stepped not I forth, and checked the rude barbarians?
Who was it first proposed this very plan?
Was that the action of a doubtful friend?
Who called the general meeting in the Strand?




I




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CAmp. Hold, hold, my noble friends!




THE TAILORS.


25


Ye came, 'tis true; but what did ye effect?
Ye spent the time in noisy vain debates.
Seeing you wavering and irresolute,
With honest scorn, I catered for myself;
What could I do?-say, if a baron sends
To me for clothes, what, must I leave him clotheless?
Or, if a duke, who pays me nobly, sends
For a rich birth-day suit, what, must I say
I can't afford to pay my journeymen?
Oh, inconsiderate, ungrateful men!
Little I thought, that after all my toils
From early youth down to decrepid age,
Reproach should ever stain my honest fame;
Less, it should come from Pearcey's flippant tongue.
'Tis true I gave more than the law allows;
So have you all: if you call that a crime,
From guilt like that not even Pearcey's free.
PEAR. Who dares name guilt, and with a Pearcey's
name?
FRAN. That dare I!
PEAR. You know your age protects you;
Your safety else you would not hazard thus.
FRAN. Safety from thee?CAMP. Hold, hold, my noble friends!
Restrain your fire, check this impetuous rage,
Nor let these sparks be kindled into flame.
Pearcey, be dumb, and learn respect to age!
Thy worth, Francisco, still will be remembered,
Long as the Tailors' business has a being.
Think not, thou venerable man, that words,
Hastily dropped in council, point at thee;
For whosoever strives to wrong thy fame,
Will find the dart recoil upon himself.
Rio. Ere 1would wrong the great Francisco's fame,
C




THE TAILORS.


May my right hand forget to hold the needle!
Whate'er I spoke was for the common good;
The ill was general, fatal the effect.
Which to prevent was the utmost of my aim.
PEAR. Forgive me, sage Francisco, if rash youth
Forget respect, so due to age like thine.
FRAN. Oh, great Regniades, and Pearcey too,
Forgive my warmth; if, when my fame's attacked,
My swelling heart e'en bursts with indignation!
For what is dearer to a Tailor's soul?
Acknowledgment like this restores my love:
I am no Scythian, nursed with tiger's milk,
But yield with joy to friendship's softer tie.
CAMP. Ay, this is right!-Say, shall I put the
question,
Is it resolv'd, that one and all unite?
OMBEs. All, all; all nine as but one man.
CAMP. Well have ye done, well ended long debates,
Synod of Tailors, like to what you are!
Yet, ere we part[A noise is heard, of breaking windows and shouting.
Enter WAITER.-L.
WAITER. Haste, gentlemen! my worthy masters,
run!
For all the journeymen are up in arms;
Caps, hats, and brick-bats fly about the street,
And knock down every master that they meet!
[Exeunt.-L.
SCENE IV.-A Street.
Enter ABRAHAMIDES solus.-.-R.
ABR. With what unequal tempers are we formed!




THE TAILORS.


27


What tho' adorned with splendour, armed with power,
Obedient Tailors tremble at my nod;
Tho' at each club the chair of honour's placed
For me alone; what tho' on every slate,
My name stands foremost-still I am unhappy:
I groan beneath the complicated pangs
Of love and of ambition!-Ye jarring pair,
Why do you join to rack a heart like mine?
Yet why should love be e'er denied the brave?
Is there no way to reap the fruit of both?
Conceal my love, ambition yet may thrive;
Come, plausive Prudence, neither vice nor virtue,
Yet worth them all; pale fac'd Hypocrisy,
Lend thy smooth smile to hide my close design;
And friendly Caution, with thy timid eye,
Watch, lest some spy should dog me to my haunt.
[Exit.-L.
SCENE V.-Tittillinda's Lodgings.
Enter TITTILLINDA, followed by BLOUSIDORA.-L.
TITT. Still must I mourn, for ever mourn my fate,
Oppressed by Fortune, and a slave to love!
Oh, would but Fortune smile, Love yet might bless
Our future days, and Abrahamides
Fill these loved arms, with joys unutterable.
Instead of thatBLOUs. Torment thyself no more!
Think what you are, your present happiness;
Great Abrahamides is still thy slave.
TITT. In vain you urge me to forget my woes.
BLOUs. How many ladies, in your situation,
Would think themselves completely blest to see




28


THE TAILORS.


An Abrahamides sigh at their feet;
One, who, by general voice of all the Flints,
From his sole merit was elected chief!
T1TT. True, Blousidora, merit such as his
Might gratify a woman's utmost pride;
Great is his merit; greater still his love.
Sure I shall ne'er forget that fatal day
When at the Court of Conscience first we met;
Urg'd by hard creditors, oppressed by foes,
Obedient to the summons there I came;
Full thirty shillings was the vast, vast debt;
Friendless, unknowing in the quirks of law,
While the brow beating justices insult,
Forth from the crowd there stepped a gallant youth,
Whose form might claim attention e'en from queens!
He asked the sum; then fifteen shillings paid,
(His whole week's wages) and subscribed a note,
By weekly payments to discharge the rest.
BLOUS. Oh, generous youth! But tell me, hapless
fair,
Was he till then unknown?
TITT. His name, his form,
Till that blest hour, were utterly unknown.
Forth from the wondering crowd he led me home;
Then ordered dinner, and some brandy-punch;
Enquired my name, my state, soothed all my griefs,
Then urged his passion in so soft a strain!
Whbt could I do? my Blousidora, say!
Could I refuse the gentle generous youth?
BLOUS. While he is faithful, why should you
complain?
TITT. Iave I not cause? my Blousidora, say!
While cruel fortune frowns, he can't support me;
My father's doors are ever shut against me:




THE TAILORS.


29


Whene'er that thought occurs, my spirits sink,
And my whole soul goes forth in sighs and tears!
Weeps.
BLOUS. Here comes the chief.       [Exit.-L.
Enter ABRAHAMIDES.-L.
ABR. In tears, my Tittillinda?
Lift up thine eyes; and see who comes to cheer thee.
TIrT. My Abrahamides!
ABR. Yes, my Tittilinda,
Thy faithful Abrahamides is come,
To sooth thy sorrows, cheer thy drooping spirits.
But why these tears? why, with heart-rending sighs,
Heaves thy sad bosom? is there aught on earth,
Within my power, I would not do to serve thee?
TITT. Oh, generous youth!
ABR. Trust me, my love, I feared
Some rude unfeeling bailiff was the cause
Of thy sad tears. But, most of all I feared
You pined for pleasures I could not afford.
TITT. Oh, no! all pleasures centre in thy arms.
I envy not the fair, whose happier fate
Nightly affords to go to Sadler's Wells;
Or to White Conduit House, where buttered loaves
Assuage their hunger; and to cool their thirst,
Sweet-sliding syllabub affords its aid;
Free be their joys, joys once, alas, my own!
Nor yet unhappy Tittillinda's fate,
While Abrahamides continues love.
ABR. Oh, my soul's joy, if fortune crown our arms,
My Tittillinda shall no longer mourn;
A few short hours will soon decide our fate.
When next we meet, I'll raise thee to an height,
c2




30               TBH TAILORS.
Shall gather all thy gazing neighbours round
To wonder who the devil placed thee there.
But if we ne'er meet more —
TITT. What means my love?
ABR. Be ignorant, till thou applaud'st the deed.
TITT. I seek to know no more than you reveal.
Yet, ere thou goest, drink some generous punch,
To cheer thy drooping soul.
ABR. Short be our joys,
Whene'er our duty calls.-But come, my love;
If fate but favour us, our future days
Shall roll in peace, in luxury, and ease,
And all be crowned with punch, with pork, with peas.
[Exit.-R.
THE END OF THE FIRST ACT.




THE TAILORS.


31


ACT II.
SCENE I.-An Apartment in Francisco's House.
Enter DOROTHEA and MOPPERELLA.-R.
Mop. Cease, my dear mistress, cease these fruitless
tears,
Nor let the canker Grief destroy thy beauty.
My master never later stays than ten,
But he sends word.
Don. Oh, you mistake me quite!
For other sorrows load my throbbing breast.
Mop. What other sorrows can disturb you now?
I'm sure no woman in the parish goes
Or better fed, or better drest than thou,
Or takes more pleasure in a handsome way.
DOR. Happiest of tailor's ladies sure am I;
Ungrateful were it to deny the truth.
'Tis true, Francisco drives but with one horse,
Nor envy I whose ladies drive with two.But, Mopperella, as you talk of eating,
Say, is the sparrow-grass got ready yet?
Mop. The water's boiling, and the toast is made;
But Betty says she will not put the grass
Into the saucepan, till my master comes.
DOR. Betty is careful.
Mop. Then, dear madam, say,
Since you confess that you enjoy all pleasure,
A country house and town, a one-horse chaise,




32


THE TAILORS.


White Conduit House, and every joy beside,
Why do you grieve thus?
DOR. True, my Mopperella,
I have a country house in Lambeth Marsh,
Genteely furnished; nor need fear, when drest,
The envious glance of Madam Sarcenet's eye;
Yet, for all this, I am unhappy still.
I know not why-but, ah! my boding heart
Presages ill from this night's fatal council.
MoP. What, do you grieve because my master's out?
Oh, grieve no more; he will be back to supper.
Madam, were I in your place, I protest,
I should be merry, as a grig, all day.
DOR. Thou hast no husband, Moppy! if thou hadst,
Thou wouldst not prattle at this idle rate;
How can a single woman ever feel
Those little fears, that nice uneasiness,
Which so distinguish every prudent wife?
MoP. Madam, tho' single, yet I can pronounce,
If I were married, I should love my husband;
But tho' I loved him, yet I would not fret
When he was out-unless he stayed all night.
DoR. Stay out all night? hold your irreverent
tongue!                     [Knocking.
Your master comes! I know his knock-begone!
Bid Betty hasten supper; well I know,
When he returns, he's hungry and fatigued.
Enter FRANCISCO with his head broke, led by a Waiter.
-L.
FRAN. Here, Robin, here's a tester!
DOR. What do I see!
Oh, speak Francisco! ease me of my fears!




THE TAILORS.


33


FRAN. Be not alarmed, my love, but lend thy arm,
To prop my feeble steps.
DOR. Run for a surgeon!
FRAN. Hast thou no sticking-plaster here, my love?
DOR. I have, my love: and Hungary water too.
How art thou now?
FRAN. Better; much better, love;
Only a little faint with loss of blood.
DOR. No wonder, love; didst thou not faint before?
FRAN. A tailor's soul bears all with equal firmness!
DOR. But say, my love, how hap'd this dire mischance!
FRAN. Why, in the middle of our long debate,
The journeymen assembled, all in arms,
With stones broke every window; then, whilst I
Endeavoured to oppose (the rest being old)
Myself alone amidst an host of foes,
Oppressed by numbers, senseless fell to earth,
Till Robin picked me up, and led me home.
DOR. Where was thy Dolly then, to bind thy head?
But now my dream is out, my fears are gone!
Why wouldst thou go against thy Dolly's warning?
FRAN. Who can controul his fate? all must submit;
Monarchs and tailors must submit to fate.
DOR. That's true. Then let me put thee now to bed,
And rest, perhaps, will heal thy smarting wounds.
FRAN. I will; and in the morning soon will get
A judge's warrant for that rascal Isaac.     *
DOR. Isaac? who's he?
FRAN. Why, our late foreman; he
Was at their head.
DOR. Then trounce him well, my love!
But come, get thee to bed; and thenFRAN. What then?




H04               THE TAILORS.
DOR. I'll make my love some whey.
FRAN. And so you may.    [Fran. is led out.-R.
DOROTHEA alone.
For Isaac get a warrant? I'm undone!
What can I do?-Ha! when he's fast asleep,
I'll send for Isaac, give him instant notice,
That he may shun the danger.         [Exit.-R
SCENE II.-An Antichamber in the Alehouse.
Enter ABRAHAMIDES-R. and BERNARDO.-L.
ABR. Oh, faithful friend, sole partner of my councils,
Thy early industry proclaims thy heart.
BERN. None yet arrived? what means this dull
delay?
ABR. 'Tis yet too soon; therefore I bid thee come,
To share the troubles that disturb my breast.
BERN. Is this a time, oh, chief, to harbour fear,
When our long-laboured scheme is near its birth?
ABR. Mistake me not; so cold a guest as Fear
Ne'er found admittance into this firm breast.
I fear and doubt of others.
BERN. Who? explain!
ABR. Hast thou not marked, in all our various
meetings,
Some fearful hearts, still wavering and weak?
BERN. Whom do you mean?
ABR. Pale Zachariades,
Envious Phillippomenos, I fear;
Ralpho's cold heart; Timotheus' addle brain!




THE TAILORS.


BERN. Why do you doubt them?
ABR. Oh, I know them well;.On the same board together oft we've worked;
Oft have I seen them with an abject eye,
Tremble before the tyrant master's frown,
And crouch beneath the foreman's weak dominion.
BERN. If thus you doubt, 'twere better to prevent
The ills you fear, than wait in vain their cure.
ABR. That's my design.
BERN. Shall I secure them, then?
ABR. Not yet, with open force; with deeper art,
We'll make their fears the rulers of their fate.
Involved in guilt, they'll then have no retreat,
But to go forward. This night's hostile act
(I know Isaacos will do his duty)
Commences war; no hopes of peace remain.
BERN. Have you yet heard from great Isaacos?
ABR. Yes, my Bernardo, that the blow is struck;
That done, they all dispersed, but will attend
Their several duties here. In the mean time,
Be it thy care to watch those heartless Dungs;
Inform the leaders of the Eastern climes,
Redriff, and Wapping, of our honest fears,
That when we've singled out these half-made souls,
(Should we not bring them to the paths of Honour)
Then, like a limb diseased, we'll lop them off!
BERN. Bravely resolved, my chief.-But sure 'tis
time
That we repair to council.
ABR. Let's go in.                [Exeunt.-L.




THE TAILORS.


SCENE III.-The Club-room.
BERNARDO,   CHRISTOPHORIDES,   HUMPHRYMINOS,
BARTHOLOMEUS, ZACHARIADES, PHILIPPOMENOS,
and RALPHO, discovered in council; ABRAHAMIDES
in the chair.
ABR. Oh, gallant men, chief pillars of the trade!
For the last time we meet, to fix the plan
Of future action. 'Tis well known to all,
Some timid Dungs (unworthy of the name
Alike of tailor or of man; from whom
Opprobrious proverbs rise to hurt our fame,)
Meanly descend to work for half-a-crown.
Whilst this continues, all our schemes are vain;
What's to be done?
HUM. Great Abrahamides,
Permit a man, unskilled in council sage,
Yet from plain facts, that have been, thence conclude
What may be.-When the weaving sons of silk,
Oppressed with debts and hunger, rose in arms,
They had divisions then, as we have now:
What did they do? whene'er they found a man
Doubting or faltering, him they straight compelled:
Hence, soon a formidable band arose,
And all the sister trades were forced to join.
Lo! their example points us out the way.
BART. And since, among such numbers will be
found
Some dastard Dungs, let chosen bands be placed
To storm the masters' houses where they work;
And at the midnight hour, when sunk in sleep,
Break all their windows, frighten all their wives;




THE TAILORS.


While others shall assault each house of call,
Smash all their slates, and plunder every box;
Till by experience, they are taught to know
No private safety can depend on aught
But on the common good. We want not men,
Nor chiefs to lead them.
ZACH. Measures such as these,
Could we insure success, would gain our ends.
The Dungs are numerous; and though, so base,
They dread the noble toil of glorious war,
Yet that same baseness may defeat our valour.
It is well known, before these fatal broils,
The Flints and Dungs in friendly intercourse
Together worked, together friendly drank;
Hence each is known,-his name-his habitation,His house of haunt, and each particular;
Should we proceed to force, as is advised,
With informations they would straight repair
To Sir John Fielding; whose fierce myrmidons,
At unexpected moments, might entrap
Singly our chiefs, and throw them into gaol.
BERN. And if they do, they cannot hang us, sure!
Breaking of windows is not capital.
ZACH. But plundering boxes is.
BERN. That we'll avoid.
ZACH. Think on the Riot Act.
BERN. Ere that is read,
All our swift-footed Flints, as swift as ducks,
Will soon elude their search.
ZACH. But when asleep
Can they escape? may they not then be ta'en?
BERN. Suppose they are, is there a man so base,
Who fears, for such a cause, to live in gaol
When from each box they will be well supplied
D




38


THE TAILORS.


With beef, with cabbage, cucumbers, and porter.
Fear, more than wisdom, dictates gentler means.
ABR. Bernardo, you forget!
BERN. I-stand reproved.
ZACH. Fear! fear, Bernardo? sure he but little
knows
Firm Zachariades, who doubts his courage.
BERN. Curs'd be the man who doubts it! Well
I know,
Through every purlieu of long Drury Lane,
And Covent Garden, has thy prowess shone;
And White Hart Yard is wanton at thy name,
Nor is thy matchless hardiness unknown;
For, while the slaves of ease repose on down,
Oft on the flinty pavement hast thou laid,
Hushed by the murmuring kennel to thy slumbers.
I meant not to reproach, but only raise
Thy well-known courage to support our cause.
PHIL. His courage none can doubt; and since all
here
Are free, with freedom will I speak my mind;
I own I think with Zachariades,
That gentler means at first should be proposed,
To win as friends, rather than treat as foes.
CHRIS. No generous means will ever win a Dung;
Their sordid souls are lost to every sense
Of kindness or of honour; Force alone
Can e'er prevail with them. Ye have my voice.
Enter ISAACOS.
ABR. Welcome, Isaacos! what's the news with thee?
IgAAcos. At first I strove with subtle art to gain
Pull information of their dark design;
Sounded the waiters; but I found it vain,




THE TAILORS.


For their own prentices secured the door:
That known, resolved at last to give no time
For future schemes, my troops I quickly formed,
And in an instant, at the signal given,
A cloud of brick-bats darkened all the air,
Smashed every window, deafened every ear:
Sudden they gazed; at the next onset fled,
Rout upon rout, confusion worse confounded!
Hats, wigs, and bottles, pipes and Tailors, lay
In one promiscuous carnage! Soon all fled,
Save those whom wounds or gouty limbs detained.
Great Hagglestonon, prostrate on the earthABR. White-livered Tailor!There let him lie, and be the earth on him!
ISAACOS. With him, Regniades, Francisco, fell.
This done, we all dispersed, and all are safe.
ABR. Conduct like this deserves our public thanks.
OMNEs. To great Isaacos our thanks be paid!
IsAACOs. Oh, you o'er-rate my services too much;
All I can boast, is to have done my duty.
ABR. Thus by one brave and daring bright example,
You see how vigour will insure success:
And, Zachariades, I trust will, own,
On that alone depends our future hope.
ZACH. I meant not to oppose the public voice,
But freely gave my thoughts.
ABR. Then we conclude,
With hostile vigour to compel the Dungs.
OMNSi. All; all resolve!
ABR. In Covent-Garden, ere to-morrow's dawn,
We'll muster all our troops; there let each chief
Attend for further orders.-Good night to all!
[Exeunt all but Abr. and Bern.-R.




THE TAILORS.


ABR. What think'st thou now, Bernardo? Didst
thou mark
The pallid Dungs:
BERN. I did; and saw that fear
Shrunk their cold hearts, and withered every nerve.
ABR. They have not hearts to enter into guilt;
Them I can never trust: some safer way
Must then be found to rid us of our fears.
BERN. Ay, but what way?
ABR. Put powder in their drink!
BERN. What dost thou mean?-gunpowder?
ABR. No, nor James's powder: excruciating jalap!
BERN. Ha! jalap!
ABR. Gripe-giving mercury will reach their bowels,
And render them unfit for active deeds.
BERN. True; that will do: where is it to be got!
ABR. Know'st thou no lean apothecary!
BERN. No.
ABR. Then buy it at a common chemist's shop.
BERN. If we should give too much?
What if the powder should not work at all?
ABR. Suppose it should not?
Hast thou, Bernardo, gone with me so far,
Trod every step, and shared in every honour,
And start'st thou at a paltry accident,
Which may or may not happen?
BERN. Doubt me not!
But you remember what the bakers did,
Out of mere fun, and too much jalap given?
ABR. Their comrade died, and they absconded.
Well!
And what of that?-Mark me, Bernardo well;
Consider well the precipice we're on;




THE TAILORS.


41


For should we fail, be sure that thou and I
To public justice the first victims fall.
BERN. No more! thou hast convinced me; I'm
resolved.
ABR. Yet hear! shall we, when raised thus high,
stop now,
When one step higher crowns our utmost hopes?
Nay, more-but this is for thy private earIf we succed in this, I have a plan
Will free us ever from base servitude,
And we'll be masters in our turn, Bernardo.
BERN. Oh, worthy to deceive and awe the Tailors!
I'll go this instant (for I know their haunt)
And, under fair pretence of reconcilement,
We'll drink together; just ere the tankard's out,
I'll mix the drug, and leave them to their fate.
[Going.-L.
ABR. A lucky thought.-Yet hear, Bernardo.
BERN. What dost thou say, my chief?
ABR. Full half an ounce!
BERN. Depend upon it they shall have enough;
It shall not be a thimble-full.
ABR. Oh, noble daring!-Think on the reward:
If we succeed, we're masters for ourselves.
[Exeunt.-R.
SCENE IV.-Zachariades's Lodgings.
Enter ZACHARIADES and TINDERELLA.-R.
TIND. Why, look you, Zachariades! 'tis vain
To talk to me-my children: shall not starve.
ZACH. I prithee, woman, hold thy peace-no more!
TIND. I will not peace, while I have breath to speak.
Oh, that my tongue were in the thunder's mouth!
D2




THE TAILORS.


Then would I rattle thee with such a peal,
Thou shouldst comply, or never shouldst have rest.
ZACH. Nor have I now, or ever shall.
TIND. Oh, shame!
There's not a meeker-tempered woman breathes
Than Tinderella-all the parish knows.
But 'tis enough to make a parson swear,
To see a man run headlong into gaol
And starve his children, and as good a wife
(Though I declare-it) as man ever had.
ZACH. As good a wife?-ay, and as gentle too!
TIND. Ay, gentle too!-What, I suppose you'd
Some meek insipid thing with folded arms,  [have
Would stand or curt'sy, and say yes, or no,
As you would have her: No, i'faith not I!
I do my duty, you should think on yours.
ZACH. Why what the devil ails the woman now?
Is not three shillings better far, thou fool,
Than half-a-crown a day?
TIND. What's half-a-crown.
Or what three shillings, if you go to gaol.
Who will maintain your wife and children then?
ZACH. Each friendly box will yield a weekly aid.
TIND. But what if you should be confined for years:
The box would soon be tired. See, hither come
Your masters with a warrant.
Enter HAGGLESTONON and REGNIADES.-L.
ZACH. Let them come!
HAG. Well Zachariades, to you we come,
As to a man whose regularity
Has long been known. Say, wherefore would you lose
Your reputation thus, to join with those
Whom gentle usage never can restrain?




THE TAILORS.


43


REo. Why will you mingle with such men, whose
Are all against the law?                  [acts
ZACH. Why should not I,
As well as others, have my wages rais'd?
My work's as good as theirs?
HAG. Suppose it is,
You know the price is fixed; what is your due
Is duly paid. Whoe'er offends the law
Will feel, too late, the weight of all its pains.
TIND. Did not I say so?
ZACH. Woman, hold your peace!
TIND. No, I will not!-Sirs, give me leave to
speakHAG. Hold; let me speak.- We now are come as
friends,
Out of regard to your known worth, to save you
From all its penalties; for be assured,
Whoe'er is ta'en will most severely suffer.
ZACH. I shall not more than others.
TIND. Yes, you will.
REG. Ay, that you will: consider well, your wife,
Your children.
TIND. Think on that! your children, wife!
ZACH. What would you have me do?-If I comply
The Flints will straight molest; nor wife nor child,
Nor e'en myself, were safe.
ReG. Oh, never fear
Those lawless rascals. We will safe protect
Both you, and all the rest that with you join.
Enter TIMOTHEUS.-R.
TIM. Oh, Zachariades!
ZACH. Well, what's the matter?




THE TAILORS.


TIM. Poor Phillippomenos is almost dead!
Ere he arrived at home, a cold fit seized,
And cruel vomits shattered all his frame.
ZACH. Whence could it come?
TIM. I know not; but he fears
Some foul play shewn, when late he drank with you
And with Bernardo. I must run for help.  [Exit.
ZACH. Foul play! we all drank; it cannot be.
TIND. Yes, on my life it can.
These are your Flints, your heroes; these the friends
You only trust! and when you are in gaol,
They'll poison you, to save their pension box.
ZACH. Ay, that may be.
REG. You see what faithless men
You are engaged with: now consider well,
If peace, or safety, e'er can harbour there.
ZACH. My very worthy, and approved good masters,
With pleasure to my duty I return;
And so would more, did not their fears prevent;
But since you promise us your firm support,
I'll seek the others, and consult them straight.
HAG. Continue firm, and doubt not our support.
[Exeunt.
SCENE V.-Covent-Garden.
EnterABRAHAMIDES & ISAACOS, —R. BARTHOLOMEUS,
CHRISTOPHORIDES, HUMPHRYMINOS, and others.-L.
ABR. Welcome, ye Flints, deserving of the name!
Ye meet like men who would command success.
Say, gallant leaders of the eastern bands,  [ters?
Where are your troops, and how disposed your quarBART. Mine are all ready, eager for the fight,
And my head-quarters fixed with utmost care,
Up at the Goose-and-Gridiron, Paul's Church-Yard.




THE TAILORS.


45


ABR. Where thine, brave Christophorides?
CHRIS. Why, at the Bell, in Doctor's Commons.
ABR. Where thine, Humphryminos?
HUM. Safe at the Hog-in-Armour, in Chick-Lane.
ABR. Right well disposed!-Oh, gallant, brave
Matchless as will your glory be hereafter,  [allies,
'Tis not for me-But see, who comes in haste!
Enter BERNARDO.-L.
BERN. Oh, noble Abrahamides, this time
Calls loud for action, and admits no pause:
The Dungs are all in arms, and vow revenge
For murdered Philloppomenos. Their troops
In Lincoln's Inn famed fields, in firm array,
Are led by Zachariades; who means
T' attack you here, before your forces join,
Unless prevented.
ABR. Ay, this looks like war!
By heaven, the news alarms my Tailor's soul!
But say, which way do they direct their march
BERN. I hear, through Serle-Street they direct
their course,
Then thro' Sheer-Lane, and by St. Clement's Church.
ABR. By heaven, all this falls out beyond my hopes!
Haste thou, Isaacos! with thy well known cares,
March with thy small detachment thro' the Strand;
Watch well their motions, and straight send me word.
[Exit Bern.-L.
Should they attack you, you'll be well sustained.
ISAACUS. Should they attack Isaacos, they'll meet
A welcome, that will scarce deserve their thanks.'
[Exit Isaacos.-R.
ABR. I doubt it not; for thou'rt a Flint of fire!
You Christophorides, from Doctors Commons,




THE TAILORS.


In one small column, through those narrow courts
That from Black-Friars to the Temple lead,
March on your troops; and in the King's-bench Walks
Directly form; and wait for further orders.
Exit. Chris.-R.
You, great Bartholomeus, from Paul's Church Yard
March in firm phalanx straight down Ludgate-Hill,
And Christophorides at Temple-Bar
Will join your troop. [Exit Bart.-L.] While you
Humphryminos,
Up Holborn-Hill direct your secret march,
And wait upon their rear. [Exit Hum.-R.] Myself,
the while,
With the main body, will attack their front.
Enter a MESSENGER.-L.
MESS. Oh, chief, the gallant JackABR. Eternal silence seize that vulgar tongue!
Harry sounds well, the warlike Harry noble!
But Jack, vile Jack-degrading monosyllable!
MESS. What shall I call him then, oh, chief?
ABR. Henceforth
Jackides, be his name!
MEss. Jackides, then,
With all his troops revolted from the Dungs,
Is now without, and waits your further orders.
ABR. Admit him instantly!
MEss. I will, this moment.       [Exit.-L.
Enter JACKIDES, with a broomstick.-L.
ABR. Oh, brave Jackides, welcome to my arms!
Hibernia's gallant son, thy happier isle,
Unhurt by luxury, its courage keeps;
While Britain's youth surcharged with beef and beer




ABRA. Oh, brave Jackides, welcome to my arms.








THE TAILORS.


49


Degenerate from their fathers, mourn in vain
Their antique spirit to Ierne fled.
JACK. Great Abrahamides, I cannot spake,
But I will tell you how the matter stands;
At three o'clock they called me out of bed,
At little Phalim's, where I lodge; I rose,
Went with M'Carty and my Irish boys;
Each of us took a broomstick in our hands,
Thinking the masters were refractory;
But when he came-what do you call his name?
PaleABR. Zachariades.
JACK. Ay, Zack! the same.
He prated much, and bothered all our brains,
And said, at last, the masters would support us.
The devil burn the masters and the Dungs!
Then straight, M'Carty, little Phalim, I,
And all our Irish boys, came off to you.
ABR. M'Carty, Phalim; tell me are they firm?
JACK. Firm? ay, as brick-bats: they're good
fellows both,
As ever trotted bog: set them to work,
And then you'll see what pretty boys they are.
ABR. 'Tis not their courage, or their truth, I doubt;
But wish to know their characters in war.
JACK. Why, little Phalim from the white boys came;
I, and M'Carty, from our earliest youth,
Among the boys of Liberty and Ormond,
Were trained to arms.                [A Shout.
Enter a MESSENGER, in haste.-R.
ABR. Well, what's the business?
MEss. The brave Isaacos demands your aid;
B




THE TAILORS.


Close by St. Clement's Church he stood, unhurt,
The shock of numerous Dungs, 'till, from the courts,
Numbers outnumbering number pouring forth,
O'erpowered his little band.
ABR. Jackides, then,
Haste with Hibernia's legion to his aid!
JACK. Ay, that I will. Fear not: my Irish boys
Shall bring you presently a good account
Of all these bastard brats, these dastard Dungs.
ABR. Brothers, and partners in this glorious toil,
'Tis not for me to rouse your courage now;
Be but yourselves, and I can ask no more!
Consider well, no common cause demands
Your present aid, and forces you to arms;
The daily sixpence is no trivial point.
What are these timid Dungs whom you oppose?
Are not their spirits by oppression broke?
And shall the Flints, like them, e'er sink to slaves?
Dishonour blast the thought! Remember, too,
Fame, fortune, honour, all are now at stake!
Oh! let these noble thoughts swell all your hearts,
New string your arms, add weight to every blow.
Draw all your bludgeons, brandish them in air;
Huzza! the word,-Newgate or Victory!
[Exeunt.-R.


THE END OF THE SECOND ACT.




THE TAILORS.


ACT III.
SCENE I.-An Apartment in Francisco's House.
Enter DOROTHEA and ISAAOOS.-L.
DOR. Must thou then go? Alas, how swiftly fly
The hours of love! Must I then be condemned
To the dull poison of a husband's arms?
ISAACOS. Oh, I could ever gaze upon that form,
But cruel fortune otherwise ordains;
It cannot-must not be! Oh, cursed fate,
That gave thy beauty to Francisco's arms!
Enter FRANCISCO behind.-R.
FRAN. Either I dream, or sure I hear some man
Conversing with my wife-what do I see?
DOR. Cursed indeed! but, ah! what could I do?
Condemned to servitude, which suits but ill
With Dorothea's spirit; soon I found
The dotard loved; I watched his hour of weakness,
And by a well-feigned coyness fixed him mine,
Then made him what he is; you, from that hour,
Who always had my heart, have shared my joys.
ISAACOS. Ay, joys indeed, pleasures unutterable,
If not embittered by these anxious fears!
DOR. By fears embittered? what's thy meaning?
speak!
ISAACOS. Mistake me not! my fears are all for thee;
Should it be known, thou, art, alas, undone;
And much I fear Francisco should awake.




THB TAILORS.


DOR. Why, that is true. Now then, retire with
speed;
For morning dawns. Remember what I told thee;
Haste, and preserve thyself and friends!
ISAACOS. I will. But say, my fair, can you inform
me
Whose names, beside my own, are in the warrant?
DoR. Bernardo, Abrahamides.
ISAACOS. 'Tis well.
Ah, generous mistress, doubly am I bound
By love and gratitude, for e'er, to thee!
Farewell I may all good angels ever guard thee!
DOR. Retire my love; and when the danger's past,
You shall not fail to hear from Dorothea.
[Exeunt.-R.
FRANCISCO comes forward. —C. D.
FRAN. 'Tis as I thought! why did I ever marry?
Fool that I was, who vainly hoped to find
That want of fortune might be well supplied
By love and by obedience. Oh, vain hope,
To think that gratitude can ever bind
A servile mind!-But what can now be done?
If I betray suspicion, she'll grow insolent;
What can I do with him?-a beggar suedThe proverb's stale!-A cuckold? ha! a cuckold?
Cuckolded by a journeyman? damnation!
Couldst thou not, partial fate, when thou ordained
I should be cuckolded, by a nobler hand
Inflict the shame? perhaps I then had found
One drop of patience; and a verdict gained,
Had amply paid me for my loss and shame;
Instead of that, to be a fixed mark
For all the parish now to point and stare at!




THE TAILORS.


53


By Heaven, I'll be revenged! but how? how!-right!
His name is now inserted in the warrant;
And when in gaol, I'll buy up all his debts,
And keep him there; and, to torment him more,
I'll bribe the gaoler. Beware, Isaacos;
Thou soon shalt feel the vengeance that awaits
An injured Tailor's honour!        [Exit.-L.
SCENE IV.-Tittillinda's Lodgings.
Enter TITTILIJINDA-R. speaking as she enters to
BLOUSIDORA.
TITT. 'Tis needless, Blousidora; while you darn
Those stockings, I will mend this ruffled shirt;
For well I know you have your hands full all,
In this so-general wash.-And now for thinking!
[Sits down.
Perhaps, ere now, the fatal moment's past,
And either Abrahamides and I
Are doomed to misery, or completely blest.
Fain would I hope, but still am checked by fear;
And yet who knows, fortune perhaps may smile?
Then, Tittillinda once again will shine:
Be ever clean, and ever smartly dressed;
And fear no more those prudish prying eyes
Which smile contempt, yet envy me my joy.
Here comes my love.
Enter ABRAHAMIDES, hastily.-L.D.
ABR. Oh, Tittillinda, all our hopes are lost!
TITT. Forbid it love! what, could the Dungs prevail?
ABR, Eternal curses seize their coward hearts!
2




THE TAILORS.


Prevail they do; but not by valour's arm.
This is no time to tell thee now, my love;
For their fell blood-hounds hunt me at the heels.
TITT. What can I do?
ABR. Hast thou no secret place,
Where I may lay concealed till danger's past?
Home I can ne'er return.
TITT. Oh, yes, my love;
Within that room a secret closet stands,
That will escape the search of keenest eyes.
Thither retire.
[Noise without.] We must and will come in!
ABR. By heaven they're here!
The blood-hounds now have traced me to my lair.
[Exit.
Enter two CONSTABLES, fC.-L. D.
TITT. Well, what's your business?
1st CON. Madam, we are come
In search of a fell murderer; who, we are told,
Has taken refuge here.
TITT. I know of none.
2nd CON. Denying him is vain; for he was seen
To enter here.
TITT. Whom do you mean?
1st CON. Why, Abrahamides:
You know him well.
TITT. I do; and what of that?
For twice three days I have not seen him here.
2nd CON. We cannot lose our time; if you refuse
To yield him up, why then we seize on you.
TITr. I yield him up? No! were he here indeed,
My life should pay the forfeit ere I'd yield him.








I',I "


— -: --- — Vj ---- I Z — -IZ,,:z —              '"      J..
I.
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Trrr. Let me once more enfold him in these arms!




THE TAILORS.


57


2nd CON. Then seize on her!
TITT. Stand off!
Enter ABRAHAMIDES,-L. and knocks Aim down.
ABR. Hell-hounds, stand off! Behold the man you
seek!
1st CON. Then seize on him!
TITT. Stand off! Barbarians, hold!
Let me once more enfold him in these arms,
And take one long, one last, farewell!
ABR. Oh, cease;
Nor vainly struggle with our froward fate!Lead to my dungeon.
1st CON. Bring him along!
Let's have no whimpering here.
TITT. Hold! one moment hold,
'Till I have caught him once more in my arus!
2nd CON. Tear them asunder.
TITT. Oh, Abrahamides!
ABR. Oh, Tittillinda!
SCENE V.
Enter FRANCISCO, in morning gown and cap, led by
ROBIN.-R.
FRAN. Oh, I am griped!-The working jalap runs
Like thoro'-go-nimble thro' my twisted guts!
ROBIN. How fierce his fever is!
FRAN. Oh, what a change of torments I endure!
A red-hot goose runs hissing through my bowels;
Oh, for a peck of cucumbers to cool it!
'Tis death's bare bodkin! Give-give me a chair,
And cover me all over, for I freeze;
My teeth chatter, and my knees knock together!




THE TAILORS.


ROBIN. Have mercy, heaven!
FRAN. And now I burn again!
A Tailor's hell!-The war grows wondrous hot!
[Jumps into a large arm chair(as inAlexander theGreat.)
See! see the Flints! Isaacos, too! I know him
By his ragged coat, and unmowed beard. Avaunt!
I'll throw a cabbage at his head! With that
Last blow I've brought him down. Oh, for
A fire as big as at the Bedford Arms!
The shop-board moves! the needles dance cross-legged!
The thread's entangled!-Oh, cabbage, cucumbers!
Cab-cab-bage-bage-Oh!                   [Dies.
ROB. There fell the pride and glory of all the Tailors!
[Beckons on two Servants.
Bear him off.
As they prepare to carry him, he starts up.
FRAN. No; I wont trouble you; I'll walk off.
ROB. Then, take the chair off.  [Exeunt.-L.
SCENE VI.-Newgate.
ABRAHAMIDES solus.-R.
Why, what is man? how vain are all his schemes!
But now, the leader of a gallant band;
And now, condemned to ignominious death.
Hard fate! perversely hard! to be cut off
Just at the time when fortune was in reach.
So when, through life, some favourite plan's pursued,
With toil and perseverance down to age,
Just as we hope to reap the fruit of all,
In steps the fell anatomy, and breaks
The bubble. Be it so! since I must die,
No dastard fear shall stain my honest fame,




FRAN. The thread~s entangled!-Oh, cabbage, cucumbers!i








THR TAILORS.


61


Enter GAOLER.-L. D.
GAOLER. A stranger, sir, without, desires to see
you.
ABR. A stranger? who can it be?
GAOLER. I know not;
But he will speak, he says, to none but you.
ABR. Admit him then. [Exit Gaoler.] Who can
this stranger be?
But here he comes.
Enter GAOLER, and BERNARDO in a Chairman's Coat.
L.D.
ABR. Whence and what art thou?
BERN. We are not alone.
ABR. Leave us, honest friend.  [Exit Gaoler.
Well, what's your business now? and say, who art
thou?
BERN. Hast thou forgot me then?  [Discovers
ABR. How's this, Bernardo?           himself.
Welcome, thrice welcome, ever faithful friend!
But say, what urgent business brought thee here?
Death, instant death, attends discovery.
BERN. Think'st thou that death, in whatsoever
form,
Could e'er detain Bernardo from his friend?
ABR. Oh, generous man! too-generous Bernardo!
Much, much I wanted to behold my friend;
But still I fear, while danger hovers round thee.
What fit return can thy unhappy chief
E'er make for such fidelity as thine!
BERN. Thou wrong'st me, Abrahamides, to think
My friendship ever trod in interest's path.
F




62


THE TAILORS,


ABR. Ah! well I know thy uncorrupted faith.
Yet, oh, my friendBERN. Why bursts that aching sigh?
ABR. Tell me, Bernardo; is it fitting, he,
Who, by the general voice of all the Flints,
Was chosen chief, should be exposed at Tyburn?
And at the gallows die a shameful death?
BERN, What means my gallant friend?
ABR. Does this become
Whom Tailors followed, and the Flints have loved?
BERN. What's to be done? shall I attempt a rescue?
ABR. No. If thou ever held'st me in thy heart,
Revenge my fall;
BERN. I would; but how for means?
ABR. Thou may'st remember, in an happier hour
I told thee of a plan to free us both
From servitude.
BERN. Thou didst; but these late broils
Deprived me of the right.
ABR. 'Tis true, they did.
What dost thou think of me?
BERN. As of a man
I love and honour much.
ABR. Ill should I deserve
That character, if I could e'er permit
My friend to lose th' advantage I can't share.
Mark me!
BERN. I will.
ABR. Thou know'st, as well as I,
How many thousands, gaily drest, in town,
With aching hearts lament their dwindled purse.
BERN. Know it? ay, well!
ABR. Thou also know'st my friend,
What blistering bills those tyrant masters bring




THE TAILORS.


63


BERN. Blistering indeed! and the complaint is now
As general as just.
ABR. Now could you contrive
To undercharge them, as in other trades,
Would you not thrive?
BERN. Ay: but consider well
The length of credit they are forced to give.
ABR. I do: That plan you are not to pursue;
Low be your price, and ready cash your terms!
BERN. Ay, that may do. But how for capital?
ABR. For that I have provided. Well you know,
The Tailor's trade no ample fortune needs:
Soon as the suit's bespoke, the cloth you buy;
When made, delivered, and the cash is paid.
BERN. I understand you. Yet some capital,
Though small, is wanting for the workmen's pay.
ABR. 'Tis true; nor shall you want.
BERN. But where to gain;
There lies the point.
ABR. I'll tell thee. Well thou knowest
Ere cruel fortune sunk me thus to earth,
As chief, the box was ever at my nod:
This trust of right to every chief belongs:
And since a few short hours will close my fate,
Some future chief must then supply my place;
And who so fit as thou?
BERN. Oh, generous chief!
Thy partial friendship much o'er-rates my worth.
But then, what envious rivals may opposeABR. Oh, there are none that can deserve thy fears;
The gallant leaders of the Eastern climes,
Though brave in war, in policy unskilled.
Besides, I know they doubt, and turn their eyes
On me to fix their choice; thou art the man




64


THE TAILORS.


The public box supplies thy capital.
But oh, my friend, remember, when you've reached
This envied pinnacle of Tailor's greatness,
Never to violate the public faith!
On that firm base alone your power will stand:
The account is monthly; ere that time returns,
From the first profits you repay the box.
BERN. By Heaven this plan exceeds my utmost
hopes;
Yet, oh, my heart recoils, when I reflect
My friend cannot enjoy the bright reward.
ABR. Revenge is all the recompense I askHere is the plan digested into form; [Gives a paper.
The different price affixed to different suits,
In every paper quickly advertise;
You'll soon have custom: Ere few years are past,
You'll be established firm in Fortune's track,
And shake the tyrants' profit, drain their purse!
For ready cash will bear you through the world.
What says Bernardo? wilt though advertise?
BERN. In every paper, Morning, Weekly, Nightly,
Till it shall run like wildfire through the land.
ABR. Then Abrahamides contented dies!Ye claret-drinking tyrants, ye shall feel me,
E'en from the grave! Your children yet unborn
Shall curse the day that injured Abrahamides!
BERN. By Heaven, they shall! and, to my latest
hour,
Thy wrongs shall in my memory live green!
ABi. Thanks, my Bernardo.-One word and then
farewell!
I charge thee, by our present common danger,
By our past friendship, by your future hopes,
By all that can affect a generous Tailor,




THE TAILORS.


65


If you should have success, preserve from want
The hapless Tittilinda! oh, remember,
Thy dying Abrahamides requests it!
BERN. Oh, doubt it not! Should Fortune blast my
hopes,
By work, at least, I can preserve from want
Thy hapless fair.
ABR. Oh, thanks, thou generous friend
For ever, and for ever, now farewell!
BERN. For ever, and for ever, oh, farewell,
Thou first of friends, of heroes, and of Tailors!
[Exit.-L.
Enter C1HRISTOPHORIDES, HUMPHRYMINOS, BARTHOLOMEUS, and JACKIDES.-R.
HUM. Oh, gallant man, chief pillar of the Flints!
BART. Wapping will stand aghast, and Redriff
mourn
Thy lamentable fall!
ABR. Cease yourvain griefs!
I won't forgive that friend who sheds one tear!
As Abrahamides has ever lived,
So he is now resolved to die, a Flint!
JACK. Upon my shoul, he is a gallant fellow!
ABR. I thank you much, for this last mark of friendship;
And now from each will take a last farewell.
But some I miss! where is Issacos!
And where Bernardo!
CHRIS. They are both proscribed,
Therefore absconded.-In this doubtful state,
(When thou shalt be no more) we know not where
To fix our choice; and therefore are we come
To knows whom thou wilt name to fill thy place.
2




THE TAILORS.


ABR. The worthiest.
CHRIS. Who can determine that?
ABR. Your own free choice.
HUM. That will be doubtful still,
Where merit's equal; and your voice alone
Will put an end to every private claim.
ABR. Consider well the task that you impose:
Where all are worthy of the name of Flints,
Whom can I name, but I affront the rest?
BART. Oh, no! so much we rest upon your truth,
Your honesty, that we're determined all,
Both to obey, and to support, the chief
Whom you shall recommend.
ABR. 'Tis a hard task!
Yet, ere I speak, answer what I demand.
OMNES. We will.
ABR. Have I e'er swerved from duty, or from
honour?
HUM. Oh, no.
ABR. Say, have I e'er deceived you?
CHRIS. No.
ABR. Has private friendship ever biassed me?
BART. No.
ABR. Have I e'er violated public faith?
Or with rapacious hand e'er wronged the box?
HUM. Oh, no; and therefore do we want thy
voice,
To nominate a chief.
ABR. Fain would I wave
This last hard task! what think you of Bernardo?
OMNES. It is enough.-Bernardo be the man I
Long live Bernardo! he's our future guide.
ABR. And now my friends, take each a last farewell.



THE TAILORS.


67


But, oh, remember! never let the Flints
Sink to base slavery! Though now oppressed,
In happier days they yet may rise again.
In the mean time, with utmost industry,
Use every art to gall the tyrant masters!
BART. We will.-But, oh, brave chief, we grieve
to find
The last sepulchral honours are denied thee.
No friend can wait to close thy dying eyes,
Or lay the clay-cold corse in hallowed earth!
JACK. What, are the flaying rascals then to have
BART. Too sure, they must.             [him?
JACK. De'el burn me, if they shall!
There's little Phalim, I, and all my boys,
Will rescue him from out their butchering hands.
ABR. Let them then do their worst; for wheresoe'er
One bone of Abrahamides shall hang, -
Know-there still Abrahamides shall awe them!
HUM. Oh, gallant chief! worthy a happier fate!
For ever now, we take our last farewell.
ABR. Live and be happy, and farewell for ever!
[Exeunt omnes prcter Abr.-R.
Enter TITTILLINDA.-L.
TITT. Stand off! hold off your hands! tis all in vain!
See him I must.-Oh, Abrahamides!
ARR. Ah, Tittillinda! wherefore art thou come?
TITT. Unkindly, said! Canst thou deny me then
Once more to see, once more within my arms
To press thee close —ere yet we part for ever?
ABR. Mistake me not! still art thou rooted here!
Check those sad tears, lest they unman me too.
TITT. Have I not cause? when thou art gone for ever,




THE TAILORS.


Oh, where shall hapless Tittillinda go?
No friend to sooth her sorrow, share her grief,
Or shield her from unfeeling bailiffs' hands!
ABR. Oh, cease; nor with vain fears disturb thy
Thy Abrahamides has taken care         [breast;
At least from want to save his Tittillinda,
My friend Bernardo, when from danger free,
Has power and will to serve thee.
T1TT. What of that?
What power, what will, can ever make me blest?
Since thou wert taken, sleep has fled my eyes:
Last night, I had a mackerel for my supper,
But ah, whilst thou wert absent, could not eat.
Thus will it be, on each succeeding day;
At breakfast, dinner, supper, shall I miss thee!
ABR. Oh, cease, my love; nor with these fruitless
tears
Lament in vain what cannot be redressed!
But since each moment I expect my fate,
Oh, let me be prepared. Say, hast thou brought
The linen with thee?
TITT. I had quite forgot,
Here is the cap; and here the shirt; a ruffled one.
But, oh, what change has cruel fortune made!
What pleasing thoughts amused me while 'twas mendI fondly hoped, but, ah, I hoped in vain  [ing!
This ruffled shirt had been thy Sunday's shirt,
And not a winding-sheet to shade thy corse.
ABS. Thanks to my love, for this last generous care!
Undaunted, now, I will my fate defy!
Since I shall soon with kings and princes lie,
I with this shirt will make a shift to die.  [Exit.
[Tittillinda faints.




THE TAILORS.


69


Enter GAOLER.-L.
GAOLER. From these sad scenes this certain truth
you'll draw,
Great is the danger to offend the law;
Since nor his conduct, bravery, nor truth,
Could from the gallows save the Tailor youth.
Curtain Falls.


THE END.


Printed by J. Unwin, St. Peter's Aley, CoruhilL












i,
4'I


L 1.-.
Begone, brave army, and don't kick up a row.




BOMBASTES FURLOSO:
a 16udeoque T~ragic Opera.
BY
WILLIAM BARNES RHODES.
WITH DESIGNS
GEORGE CRUIKSHANK.


-zr rf
h1t1,7


LONDON:
JOSEPH THOMAS, FINCH LANE, CORNHILL;
AND SIMPKIN AND MARSHALL, STATIONERS' COURT.
M4DCCCXXXVII,




LONIJON:
VNAVIN, ST. PETER'S1 ALLEY,
VORNH ILL.




WILLIAM BARNES RHODES, the Author of the
following humourous and very popular piece, was second son
of Richard and Mercy Rhodes, of Leeds, in which town he was
born on Christmas day, 1772. He received a suitable education to qualify him for mercantile pursuits, and, after leaving
school, was for some time employed as writer in an attorney's
office. When about the age of twenty-seven, he obtained a
situation in the Bank of England, in which his integrity and
strict attention to business were so conspicuous, as to recommend him strongly to the notice of the Governor, and finally
led to his being appointed to the office of Chief Teller: the
more honourable to both parties, inasmuch as Mr. Rhodes
neither solicited nor expected it. As a still farther testimony
of the sense entertained of his services, the Bank, after his
death, which took place Nov. 1, 1826, granted an annuity to
his widow.
Mr. Rhodes's private worth and cheerful and obliging disposition, endeared him highly to his friends. His taste for
the Drama led him to form a collection of the works of the
English dramatists, the most complete that has ever been
brought together. It was disposed of by auction some time
previous to his death, and an idea of its extent may be formed
from the circumstance of its occupying ten days in selling.
As an Author, the natural turn of his mind to humour led
him to the composition of several works of the lighter species
of poetry: besides Bombastes, he has left behind him two
other dramatic pieces, neither of which have been acted or
printed. He also wrote a volume of Epigrams, published
with his name, in 1803.
His own opinion of the merits of Bombastes was so modest,
as to induce him to withhold it from publication, long after it
had become an established favourite on the stage, nor would
it probably have appeared at all, but that he felt it necessary
to vindicate himself from the nonsense and errors circulated
in the numerous piratical editions.
The mirth-inspiring pencil of Mr. GEORGE CRUIKSHANK,
seconded by the talents of the Artists whose names grace the
cuts, enables the Publisher to present once iore for public
approbation BOMBASTES FuRIOo0.


B 3




Dramatis Personae, Costume and Stage Directions.
AuTAXOMINOUS, King of Utopia.-Full dress, court suit, powdered wig........................ Mr. MATHEWS.
FUBBOS, Minister of State.-The same...... Mr. TAYLOR.
GENERAL BOMBASTES-A general's military suit, Jackboots,
comic powdered wig and pigtail, sword and sash, general's hat and plume.................. Mr. LISTON.
Attendants or Courtiers-Full dress court suits.
Army-A long drummer, a short fifer, and two (sometimes
three) soldiers of different dimensions, all dressed in
caricature.
DISTAFINA-Coloured chintz gown open in front, crimson
calimanco petticoat, white muslin apron, mob cap,
white muslin handkerchief.......... Mrs. LSTON.
R. means Right.-L. Left.-C. Centre.


Time of representation forty minutes.




BOMBASTES FURIOSO.
SCENE I.-Interior of the Palace.
ARTAXOMINOUS in his Chair of State; a Table set
out with Bowls, Glasses, Pipes, &8.; Attendants on
each side.
TRIo.-Tekeli.
1st ATT. What will your Majesty please to wear?
Or blue, green, red, black, white, or brown?
2d ATT. D'ye choose to look at the bill of fare?
ARTAX. Get out of my sight, or I'll knock you
down.
2d ATT. Here is soup, fish, or goose, or duck, or
fowl, or pigeons, pig, or hare?
1st ATT. Or blue, or green, or red, or black, or
white, or brown.
What will your Majesty, &c.
ARTAX. Get out of my sight, &c.
[Exeunt Attendants. R. & L.
L. Enter FUSBOS, and kneels to the King.
Fus. Hail, Artaxominous! ycleped the Great!
I come, an humble pillar of thy state,
Pregnant with news-but ere that news I tell,
First let me hope your Majesty is well.
ART. Rise, learned Fusbos! rise, my friend, and
know
We are but middling-that is, but so so.




0           BOMBASTES FURIOSO.
Fus. Only so so! 0 monstrous, doleful thing!
Is it the mulligrubs affects the king?
Or, dropping poisons in the cup of joy,
Do the blue devils your repose annoy?
ART. Nor mulligrubs, nor devils blue, are here,
But yet we feel ourself a little queer.
Fus. Yes, I perceive it in that vacant eye,
The vest unbutton'd, and the wig awry;
So sickly cats neglect their fur-attire,
And sit and mope beside the kitchen fire.
ART. Last night, when undisturb'dbystate affairs,
Moist'ning our clay, and puffing off our cares,
Oft the replenish'd goblet did we drain,
And drank and smok'd, and smok'd and drank again;
Such was the case, our very actions such,
Until at length we got a drop too.much.
Fus. So when some donkey on the Blackheath
road
Falls, overpower'd, beneath his sandy load;
The driver's curse unheeded swells the air,
Since none can carry more than they can bear.
ART. The sapient Dr. Muggins came in haste,
Who suits his physic to his patients' taste;
He, knowing well on what our heart is set,
Hath just prescrib'd "to take a morning whet;"
The very sight each sick'ning pain subdues,
Then sit, my Fusbos, sit and tell thy news.
Fus. (sits L. of table) Gen'ral Bombastes, whose
resistless force
Alone exceeds by far a brewer's horse,
Returns victorious, bringing mines of wealth!
ART. Does he, by jingo! then we'll drink his
health.              [Drum and fife. R.




I
I




I(I


'IiII1,
-,           K'':


- ~lI
For which we make you Duke of Strombelo.




BOMBASTES FURIOSO.


11


Fus. But hark! with loud acclaim, the fife and
drum
Announce your army near; behold, they come!
[Drum and fife beat again. R.
R. Enter BOMBASTES, attended by one Drummer,
one Fifer, and two Soldiers, all very materially
differing in size.
BOM. (to Army) Meet me this ev'ning at the
Barley-Mow;
I'll bring your pay, you see I'm busy now:
Begone, brave army, and don't kick up a row.
[Exeunt Soldiers. R.
(to the King) Thrash'd are your foes —this watch
and silken string,
Worn by their chief, I as a trophy bring;
I knock'd him down, then snatch'd it from his fob;
"Watch, watch," he cried, when I had done the job:
"My watch is gone," says he-says I " Just so;
"Stop where you are-watches were made to go."
ART. For which we make you Duke of Strombelo.
[BOMBASTES kneels; the King dubs him with a
pipe, and then presents the bowl.
From our own bowl here drink, my soldier true;
And if you'd like to take a whif or two,
He whose brave arm hath made our foes to crouch,
Shall have a pipe from this our royal pouch.
BOM. (rises) Honours so great have all my toils
repaid!
My Liege, and Fusbos, here's " Success to trade."
Fus. Well saidBombastes! since thy mighty blows
Have given a quietus to our foes,
Now shall our farmers gather in their crops,
And busy tradesmen mind their crowded shops;




BOMBASTES FURIOSO.


The deadly havock of war's hatchet cease;
Now shall we smoke the calumet of peace.
ART. I shall smoke short-cut, you smoke what
you please.
BOM. Whate'eryourMajesty shall deign to name,
Short cut or long, to me is all the same.
BOM & } In short, so long as we your favours
Fus. 5      claim,
Short cut or long, to us is all the same.
ART. Thanks, gen'rous friends! now list whilst P
impart
How firm you're lock'd and bolted in my heart:
So long as this here pouch a pipe contains,
Or a full glass in that there bowl remains,
To you an equal portion shall belong;
This do I swear, and now,-let's have a song.
Fus. My Liege shall be obey'd.
[advances and attempts to sing.
BoM.                      Fusbos, give place,
You know you haven't got a singing face;
Here, nature smiling, gave the winning grace.
SONG.-Hope told a flatt'ring Tale.
1. Hope told a flattering tale,
Much longer than my arm,
That love and pots of ale
In peace would keep me warm:
The flatt'rer is not gone,
She visits number one:
In love I'm monstrous deep,
Love! odsbobs, destroys my sleep.
2. Hope told a flattering tale,
Lest love should soon grow cool;
A tub thrown to a whale,
To make the fish a fool:




BOMBASTES FURIOSO.


13


Should Distaffina frown,
Then love's gone out of town;
And when love's dream is o'er,
Then we wake and dream no more. [Exit. L.
[The King evinces strong emotions during the song,
and at the conclusion starts up.
Fus. What ails my Liege? ah! why that look so
sad?
ART. (coming forward) I am in love! I scorch, I
freeze, I'm mad?
0 tell me, Fusbos, first and best of friends,
You, who have wisdom at your fingers' ends,
* Shall it be so, or shall it not be so?
Shall I my Griskinissa's charms forego,
Compel her to give up the regal chair,
And place the rosy Distaffina there!
In such a case, what course can I pursue?
I love my Queen, and Distaffina too.
Fus. And would a King his General supplant?
I can't advise, upon my soul I can't.
ART. So when two feasts, whereat there's nought
to pay,
Fall unpropitious on the self-same day,
The anxious Cit each invitation views,
And ponders which to take or which refuse:
From this or that to keep away is loth,
And sighs to think he cannot dine at both. [Exit L.
Fus. So when some school-boy, on a rainy day
Finds all his playmates will no longer stay,
He takes the hint himself-and walks away.
[Exit R.
c




BOMBASTES FURIOSO.


SCENE II. —Another Apartment in the Palace.
L. Enter ARTAXOMINOUS.
ART. I'll seek the maid I love, though in my way
A dozen gen'rals stood in fierce array!
Such rosy beauties nature meant for kings;
Subjects have treat enough to see such things.
SoNG.-Paddy O' Carrol.*
My love is so pretty,
So lively and witty,
None in town or in city
Her hand would disgrace!
My lord of the woolsack,
His coachman would pull back,
To get a look full smack
At her pretty face. i
Mathematical teachers,
Stiff methodist preachers,
And all the gay creatures
That run about town,
Great foreign ambassadors,
Never can pass her doors,
But my sweet lass deplores
So much renown. Fal de ral, &c.
Though she drives a wheelbarrow,
Through streets wide and narrow,
The school-boys from Harrow
May laugh if they dire.
Nor tasteful Grassini,
Nor Billingtonini,
Divine Catalani
With her can compare.
* This comic song was not written by the author of the piece.




BOMBASTES FURIOSO.


Nor head with a mitre,
Nor Belcher the fighter
Can find out a brighter
Than my pretty maid.
But words are mere play-things,
Neat trim holiday-things,
They cannot half say things
Enough for my love. Fal de ral, &c.
She's young and she's tender,
She's tall and she's slender,
As straight as a fender
From the top to the toe.
Eyes like stars glittering,
Mouth always tittering,
Fingers to fit a ring
Ne'er were made so.
Her head like a holly-bow'r,
Cheeks like a cauliflower
Nose like a jolly tower
By the sea-side.
Then haste, 0 ye days and nights,
That I may taste delights,
And with church holy rites
Make her my bride. Fal de ral, &c. [Exit.
SCENE III.-Inside of a Cottage.
Enter DISTAFFINA.
Dis. This morn, as sleeping in my bed I lay,
I dreamt (and morning dreams come true, they say),
I dreamt a cunning man my fortune told,
And soon the pots and pans were turned to gold!




BOMBASTES FURIOSO.


Then I resolv'd to cut a mighty dash;
But, lo! ere I could turn them into cash,
Another cunning man my heart betray'd,
Stole all away, and left my debts unpaid.
[Enter Artaxominous. L.
And pray, sir, who are you I'd wish to know?
ART. Perfection's self! O smooth that angry brow!
For love of thee I've wander'd thro' the town,
And here have come to offer half a crown.
Dis. Fellow! your paltry offer I despise;
The great Bombastes' love alone I prize.
ART. He's but a Gen'ral-damsel, I'm a King;
Dis. O Sir! that makes it quite another thing.
ART. And think not, maiden, I could e'er design
A sum so trifling for such charms as thine.
No! the half crown that ting'd thy cheeks with red,
And bade fierce anger o'er thy beauties spread,
Was meant that thou should'st share my throne and
bed.
Dis. (aside) My dream is out, and I shall soon
behold
The pots and pans all turn to shining gold.
ART. (puts his hat down to kneel on) Here on my
knees (those knees which ne'er till now
To man or maid in suppliance bent) I vow
Still to remain, till you my hopes fulfil,
Fixt as the Monument on Fish-street-hill.
Dis. (kneels) And thus I swear, as I bestow my
hand
As long as e'er the Monument shall stand,
So long I'm your'sART.            Are then my wishes crown'd
Dis. La! Sir, I'd not say no for twenty pound:




BOMBASTES FURIOSO.


Let silly maids for love their favours yield,
Rich ones for me-a king against the field.
SoNG.-Paddy's Wedding.
Queen Dido at
Her palace gate
Sat darning of her stocking O;
She sung and drew
The worsted through,
Whilst her foot was the cradle rocking 0.
(For a babe she had
By a soldier lad,
Though hist'ry passes it over O;)
"You tell tale brat,
I've been a flat,
"Your daddy has proved a rover 0.
{" What a fool was I
"To be cozen'd by
"A fellow without a penny O;
"When rich ones came,
"And ask'd the same,
"For I'd offers from never so many O.
" But I'll darn my hose,
" Look out for beaus,
"And quickly get a new lover O;
" Then come, lads, come,
" Love beats the drum,
" And a fig for AEneas the rover O."
ART. So Orpheus sung of old, or poets lie,
And as the Brutes were charm'd, e'en so am I.
Rosy cheek'd maid, henceforth my only queen,
Full soon shalt thou in royal robes be seen;
c3




BOMBASTES FURIOSO.


And through my realm I'll issue this decree,
None shall appear of taller growth than thee:
Painters no other face pourtray-each sign
O'er alehouse hung shall change its head for thine.
Poets shall cancel their unpublish'd lays,
And none presume to write but in thy praise.
[Distaffina produces a bottle and glass. R.
DIs. And may I then, without offending, crave
My love to taste of this, the best I have?
ART. Were it the vilest liquor upon earth,
Thy touch would render it of matchless worth;
Dear shall the gift be held that comes from you;
Best proof of love, (drinks) 'tis full proof Hodges
too:
Through all my veins I feel a genial glow,
It fires my soul —
BOM. (within. L.) Ho, Distaffina, ho!
ART. Heard you that voice?
Dis.              0 yes, 'tis what's his name,
The General; send him packing as he came.
ART. And is it he? and doth he hither come?
Ah me! my guilty conscience strikes me dumb:
Where shall I go? say, whither shall I fly?
Hide me, oh hide me, from his injur'd eye!
Dis. Why, sure you're not alarm'd at such a thing!
He's but a General, and you're a King.
[Artax. secrets himself in a closet. R. in flat.
L. Enter BOMBASTES.
BOM. Lov'd Distaffina! now by my scars I vow,
Scars got-I hav'nt time to tell you how;
By all the risks my fearless heart hath run,
Risks of all shapes from bludgeon, sword, and gun,
Steel traps, the patrole, bailiff shrewd, and dun;








'I,,l 1,,f//.l


__
Why help your silly brains, that's not a hat,




BOMBASTES FURIOSO.


By the great bunch of laurels on my brow,
Ne'er did thy charms exceed their present glow!
O let me greet thee with a loving kiss[sees the hat.
Hell and the devil!-say whose hat is this?
Dis. Why help your silly brains, that's not a hat.
BOM. No hat?
Dis.          Suppose it is, why what of that!
A hat can do no harm without a head!
BOM. Whoe'er it fits, this hour I doom him dead;
Alive from hence the caitiff shall not stir[discovers the' King.
Your most obedient, humble servant, sir.
ART. 0 General, O!BOM.              My much-loved master,!
What means all this?
ART.             Indeed I hardly know —
Dis. (R.) You hardly know!-a very pretty joke,
If kingly promises so soon are broke!
Arn't I to be a Queen, and dress so fine?
ART. (L.) I do repent me of the foul design;
To thee, my brave Bombastes, I restore
Pure Distaffina, and will never more
Through lane or street with lawless passion rove,
But' give to Griskinissa all my love.
BOM. (C.) No, no, I'll love no more; let him
who can
Fancy the maid who fincies ev'ry man.
In some lone place I'll find a gloomy cave,
There my own hands shall dig a spacious grave,
Then all unseen I'll lay me down and die,
Since woman's constancy is —all my eye.




ZZ       BOMBASTES FURIOSO.
TRIO.-O Lady Fair!
DIs. 0 cruel man! where are you going?
Sad are my wants, my rent is owing.
BOM. I go, I go, all comfort scorning;
Some death I'll die before the morning.
Dis. Heigh 0, Heigh 0! sad is that warning:
0 do not die before the morning!
ART. I'll follow him, all danger scorning;
He shall not die before the morning.
BoM. I go, I go, &c.
Dis. Heigh 0, Heigh 0! &c.
ART. I'll follow him, &c.
[Exeunt. L.
SCENE IV.-A Wood.
Enter FUSBOS.
Fus. This day is big with fate: just as I set
My foot across the threshold, lo! met
A man whose squint terrific struck my view;
Another came, and, lo! he squinted too:
And ere I'd reach'd the corner of the street,
Some ten short paces, 'twas my lot to meet
A third who squinted more-a fourth, and he
Squinted more vilely than the other three.
Such omens met the eye when Cesar fell,
But caution'd him in vain; and who can tell
Whether those awful notices of fate
Are meant for Kings, or Ministers of State?
For rich or poor, old, young, or short or tall,
The wrestler Love trips up the heels of all.




Some death I'll die before the morning.




I




BOMBASTES FURIOSO.


SONG.-My Lodging is on the cold Ground.
1. My lodging is in Leather-lane,
A parlour that's next to the sky;
'Tis expos'd to the wind and the rain,
But the wind and the rain I defy:
Such love warms the coldest of spots,
As I feel for Scrubinda the fair;
O she lives by the scouring of pots,
In Dyot-street, Bloomsbury-square.
2. O was I a quart, pint, or gill,
To be scrubb'd by her delicate hands,
Let others possess what they will
Of learning, and houses, and lands;
My parlour that's next to the sky
I'd quit, her blest mansion to share;
So happy to live and to die
In Dyot-street, Bloomsbury-square.
3. And O would this damsel be mine,
No other provision I'd seek;
On a look I could breakfast and dine,
And feast on a smile for a week.
But, ah! should she false-hearted prove,
Suspended, I'll dangle in air;
A victim to delicate love,
In Dyot-street,Bloomsbury-square. [Exit. L.
Enter BOMBASTES,* preceded by a Fifer, playing
"Michael Wiggins."
BOM. Gentle musician, let thy dulcet strain
Proceed-play Michael Wiggins once again,Music's the food of love; give o'er, give o'er,
For I must batten on that food no more. [Exit Fifer.
* The remainder of the part of Bombastes in this scene
is sometimes performed in a morning-gown and slippers.
D




26


BOMBASTES FURIOSO.


My happiness is chang'd to doleful dumps,
Whilst, merry Michael, all thy cards were trumps.
So, should some youth by fortune's blest decrees
Possess at least a pound of Cheshire cheese,
And bent some favour'd party to regale,
Lay in a kilderkin, or so, of ale;
Lo! angry fate, in one unlucky hour
Some hungry rats may all the cheese devour,
And the loud thunder turn the liquor sour.
[Forms his sash into a noose.
Alas! alack! alack! and well-a-day,
That ever man should make himself away;
That ever man for woman false should die,
As many have, and so, and so-  wont I;
No, I'll go mad! 'gainst all I'll vent my rage,
And with this wicked wanton world a woful war I'll
wage.
[Hangs his boots to the arm of a tree, and, taking
a scrap of paper, with a pencil writes the following couplet, which he attaches to them, repeating the words
" Who dares this pair of boots displace,
a' Must meet Bombastes face to face."
Thus do I challenge all the human race.
[Draws his sword and retires up the stage.
L. Enter ARTAXOMINOUS.
ART. Scorning my proffer'd hand he frowning fled,
Curs'd the fair maid, and shook his angry head.
[Perceives the boots and label.
Who dares this pair of boots displace,
"Must meet Bombastes face to face."
Ha! dost thou dare me, vile obnoxious elf;
I'll make thy threats as bootless as thyself:




-,: -N  
ME r.


u 1 ~                                   - r
I'll make thy threats as bootie." as thyself.








BOMBASTES FURIOSO.


29


Where'er thou art, with speed prepare to go
Where I shall send thee-to the shades below!
[Knocks down the boots.
BOM. (coming forward) So have I heard on Afric's
burning shore,
A hungry lion give a grievous roar;
The grievous roar echo'd along the shore.
ART. So have I heard on Afric's burning shore
Another lion give a grievous roar,
And the first lion thought the last a boar.
BOM. Am I then mock'd? Now by my fame I swear
You shall soon have it —There?   [They fight.
ART.      Where?
BOM.               There and there.
ART. I have it sure enough-Oh! I am slain,
I'd give a pot a beer to live again;
Yet, ere I die, I something have to say:
My once lov'd Gen'ral, prithee, come this way
Oh! Oh! my Bom     --       [Falls on his back.
BOM.           bastes he would have said:
But ere the word was out his breath was fled.
Well, peace be with him, his untimely doom
Shall thus be mark'd upon his costly tomb:"Fate cropp'd him short-for be it understood,
"He would have liv'd much longer-if he could."
[Retires again up the stage.
Enter FusBos.
Fus. This was the way they came, and much I
fear,
There's mischief in the wind-what have w here?
King Artaxominous bereft of life?
Here'll be a pretty tale to tell his wife.
D 3




BOMBASTES FURIOSO.


Bop. A pretty tale, but not for thee to tell,
For thou shalt quickly follow him to hell;
There say I sent thee, and I hope he's well.
Fus. No, thou thyself shalt thy own message
bear;
Short is the journey, thou wilt soon be there.
[They fight.
DUETT.-Weippert's Fancy.*
BOM.     I'll quickly run you through,
Fus.     No, hang me if you do,
I think I know a trick can equal two of that;
My sword I well can use,
So mind your P's and Q's:
BoM. I thank you, Sir, but I must caution you of
that.
(Lord Cathcart's Favourite.)
Fus.     'Tis a pleasure to fight
With a man so polite,
Then hear in return what I'll do, Sir;
I'll take down aught you'll say
In the will-making way,
And be your Executor too, Sir.
BOM.     0, Sir, there's no need
For so friendly a deed,
But I hope for yourself you're provided;
Since your worldly affairs
Will devolve to your heirs,
As soon as the point is decided,
Then come on while you can,
Meet your fate like a manBombastes shall ne'er be derided.
* This duett is sometimes omitted.




Ir




0 Fusi s usbOs'  I m diad1ea quite,




BOMBASTES FURIOSO.


33


BOM. 0 Fusbos, Fusbos, I am diddled quite,
Dark clouds come o'er my eyes, farewell,, good
night!
Good night! my mighty soul's inclin'd to roam,
So make my compliments to all at home.
[Lies down by the King.
Fus. And o'er thy grave a monument shall rise,
Where heroes yet unborn shall feast their eyes;
And this short Epitaph that speaks thy fame,
Shall also there immortalize my name:<Here lies Bombastes stout of heart and limb,
"Who conquer'd all but Fusbos-Fusbos him."
L. Enter DISTAFFINA.
Dis. Ah, wretched maid! 0 miserable fate
I've just arriv'd in time to be too late:
What now shall hapless Distaffina do?
Curse on all morning dreams, they come so true.
Fus. Go, beauty, go, thou source of woe to man,
And get another lover where you can:
The crown now sits on Griskinissa's head;
To her I'll goDis,           But are you sure they're dead-?
Fus, Yes, dead as herrings-herrings that are red,
FINALE.
Dis.      Briny tears I'll shed,
ART.         I for joy shall cry topo
Fus.      Zounds; the King's alive;
BOM.         Yes, and so am I too.
Dis.      It was better far
ART.         Thus to check all sorrow;
Fus.      But, if some folks please,
BoM.         We'll die again to-morrow.




cAA
%07=


34      BOMBASTES FURIOSO.


Dis.
AIRT.
Fus.
Bom.


Tu ral, lu ral, la,
Tu ral, lu ral, laddi;
Tu ral, lu ral, la,
Tu ral, lu ral, laddi.
[They take hands and dance round, repeating


-       -     A4-  " - -,,- -,
I
I         _i.
I        -;f
f" '114'
ri 1;.i                  Ik.   -11,-,-Ur
A%'            "I", '_




Tu ral, lit ral, la,
Tural, lu rAlladdi.


Prnted by J. Us win, St. Peter' Alley, Cerebill








..- I -


f   I~, )1-1 2- N


I       -- - I
I..,..I
. -\,:) r    ft,   1..1'., k


(fA
Down, Phoebus, down to earth, we'll hear no farther!!           
I
--- I — I I
- 1-
1 1    -  1.:




MD AS:
A BURLETTA, IN TWO ACTS,
BY KAN E O'HARA;
AS PERFORMED AT THE THEATRES ROYAL.
ILLUSTRATED WITH ORIGINAL DESIGNS,
Z3T 3.0333T C3LtUIKSHAfJNK,
ENGRAVED BY
P. CRUIKSHANK, WV. C. WALKER, &c.
WITH INTRODUCTORY REMARKS.


LONDON:
JOSEPH THOMAS, FINCH LANE, CORNHILL,
SOLD BY SIMPRIN AND) MARSHALL, STATIONERS' COURT.
1837.




London: G. H. Davidson, Printer,
Tudor Street, Blackfriars.




MIDAS was originally produced in three acts at the CrowStreet Theatre, Dublin, 1762, and was greatly successful;
it was, however, less favourably received in England on its
production at Covent Garden, February 22d, 1764, when
it had a run of nine nights only. This has been attributed
to its length, which has been reduced, as also to the indifferent manner in which some of the characters were supported. Mattocks was the original Apollo, Beard was
Sileno, Dunstall was only respectable as Pan, while it was
remarked of Dibdin, Baker, and Fawcett, who played
Momus, Mercury, and Damaetas, that they had neither
voice nor humour. Shuter's Midas was excellent, as also
were the Daphne and Nysa of the Misses Miller and Hallam. In more recent times, some of the best performers
in this burletta have been Kelly as Apollo, Suett and
Edwin as Midas, Dignum as Sileno, and Mrs. Bland and
Mrs. Mountain as Nysa and Daphne. The piece gradually
gained in public estimation, and it was continually played,
but it was reserved for Sinclair, on its revival at Covent
Garden, in 1812, to establish its reputation as one of the
most popular burlettas of the English stage. It was produced with great splendour on the 17th of September, and
drew crowded houses for fifty-four nights in one season.
Sinclair is, probably, the best Apollo that has ever appeared, and his execution of the popular song of " Pray
Goody," produced nearly the same effect that is attributed
to the " Di tanti" of Rossini-its echo was universal and
prolonged, it was heard in every house, and whistled in
every street; and the busy hum of the court and mart was
haunted by the omnipresent ghost of this favourite melody.
Liston as Midas, and Emery as Pan, were, it will be easily
believed, surpassingly excellent: the former still reigns
supreme as his Worship, the latter will never be excelled.
Mathews and Munden also have played Midas, alas! how
A3




b                     REMARKS.
well. The fascinating Vestris almost rivals Sinclair-certainly she has never been surpassed by any other,-as
Apollo; she supports the character with great vivacity and
talent, but, will it be believed? there is a Critic! who,
having seen both, admires neither-Delectable Gander!
The idea of Midas is taken from Ovid's Metamorphoses,
Book XI., but the wit and humour of the piece, which are
very considerable, are entirely O'Hara's; and while the
story is dramatized with considerable skill, there is nothing
in its construction, or in its dialogue, as it is now played,
which can offend the ear of taste, or greatly shock the classic notions of the scholar. It is not more free from the
grossness than the nonsense which distinguish " Cotton's
Virgil Travestie," and even " Homer Burlesque," although
the latter poem is, perhaps, the most clever of its kind
existing. The great excellence of Midas, and which will
always make it a favourite, is, that its burlesque is in general keeping with the proper characters which it displays.
The author died June 17, 1728.                 J. T.




Coltumt.


JUPITER.-Coronet, velvet shirt, satin robe, trimmed with
gold, over a flesh dress; sandals, bracelets, belt, &c.
APOLLO.-First dress. White shirt, silver trimmed; blue
drapery, &c. over flesh dress, sandals, wreath of laurels, sun on
breast. Second dress. Dove-coloured ragged tunic, hat, broad
belt, and russet sandals.
MERCURY.-Silver cap, with wings, blue shirt, white drapery, over flesh dress; slippers, with wings to the heels.
PAN.-Dark flesh dress, skin leggings and cloven feet, vine
leaves and berries.
BACCHUS.-Leopard-skin shirt, wreath of vine-leaves and
berries, over flesh dress.
MARS.-Helmet, breastplate and gauntlets, shirt and robe,
over flesh dress.
MIDAS.-Black cocked hat, red feather, large velvet coat,
embroidered waistcoat, satin breeches, silk stockings.
SILENO.-Large round hat, country coat and breeches,
flowered waistcoat.
DAM]ETAS.-Cloth jacket, trimmed; flowered waistcoat,
breeches and stockings of opposite colours.
JUNO.-A gold coronet, a silver tissue dress, scarlet and
gold robe, flesh-coloured stockings, and sandals.
VENUS.-A silver tissue dress, blue drapery with stars,
flesh dress and sandals, silver bandeau.
MINERVA.-Helmet and breastplate, scarlet robe, and
spangled dress; sandals.
HEBE.-Spangled dress, blue drapery.
CUPID.-Silver over flesh dress, flowers, wings, &c.
NYSA AND DAPHNE.-Cottage dresses, trimmed.
MYSIS.-Old English velvet hat, jacket, apron, and scarlet
petticoat, all trimmed with point; shoes to match.




STAGE DIRECTIONS.
R. means Right.-L. Left.-C. Centre.
The lines distinguished by inverted commas (") are omitted in.
the representation.




MIDAS.
ACT I.
SCENE I.-The Curtain rising discovers the Heathen
Deities, seated amidst the Clouds, in full Council:
they address JUPITER in Chorus.
Chorus of all the Gods.
Jove, in his chair,
Of the sky Lord May'r,
With his nods
Men and Gods
Keeps in awe;
When he winks,
Heaven shrinks;
When he speaks,
Hell squeaks;
Earth's globe is but his taw.
Cock of the school,
He bears despotic rule;
His word,
Tho' absurd,
Must be law.
Even Fate,
Tho' so great,
Must not prate;
His bald pate




10


M1IDAS.


Jove would cuff,
He's so bluff,
For a straw.
Cow'd deities,
Like mice in cheese,
To stir must cease,
Or gnaw.
JUP. (Rising.) Immortals, you have heard your
plaintive sov'reign,
And culprit Sol's high crimes. Shall we who govern,
Brook spies upon us? Shall Apollo trample
On our commands; we'll make him an example.
As for you, Juno, curb your prying temper, or
We'll make you, to your cost, know-we're your emperor.
JUNO. I'll take the law. (To JUPITER.) My proctor, with a summons,
Shall cite you, sir, t'appear at Doctors' Commons.
JuP. Let him-but first I'll chase from heaven yon
varlet,
JUNO. What, for detecting you and your vile harlot.
AIR-JUNO.
Think not, lewd Jove,
Thus to wrong my chaste love;
For, spite of your rakehelly godhead,
By day and by night,
Juno will have her right,
Nor be, of dues nuptial, defrauded.
I'll ferret the haunts
Of your female gallants;




MIDAS.


In vain you in darkness enclose them;
Your favourite jades
I'll plunge to the shades,
Or into cows metamorphose them.
JUP. Peace, termagant-I swear by Styx, our
thunder
Shall hurl him to the earth-nay, never wonder,
I've sworn it, gods.
APOLLO. Hold, hold, have patience,
Papa- No bowels for your own relations!
AIR-APOLLO.
Be by your friends advised,
Too harsh, too hasty dad!
Maugre your bolts, and wise head,
The world will think you mad.
What worse can Bacchus teach men,
His roaring bucks, when drunk,
Than break the lamps, beat watchmen,
And stagger to some punk?
JUP. You saucy scoundrel —there, sir-come Disorder,
Down Phoebus, down to earth, we'll hear no farther.
Roll, thunders, roll; blue lightnings flash about him;
The blab shall find our sky can do without him.
[Thunder and lightning-JUPITER darts a bolt at
APOLLO, who falls-JUPITER re-assumes his
throne, c. and the Gods all ascend together, singing the initial chorus-" Jove in his chair," 'fc.




MIDAS.


SCENE II.-A champagne country with a distant village; violent storm of thunder and lightning. A
shepherd sleeping in the field is roused by it, and
runs offrighted, L. leaving his cloak, hat, and guitar behind him. APOLLO (as cast from heaven) falls
to the earth, with a rude shock, and lies for a while
stunned; at length he begins to move, rises, advances,
and, looking forward, speaks; after which, enters to
him SILENO, L.
APOL. Zooks! what a crush! a pretty decent
tumble!
Kind usage, Mr. Jove-sweet sir, your humble.
Well, down I am; no bones broke, tho' sore pepper'd!
Here doom'd to stay.-What can I do?-turn shepherd-               [Puts on the cloak, &c.
A lucky thought,-in this disguise, Apollo
No more, but Pol the swain, some flock I'll follow.
Nor doubt I, with my voice, guitar, and person,
Among the nymphs to kick up some diversion.
SILENO. Whom have we here? a sightly clown!and sturdy:
Hum-plays, I see, upon the hurdy-gurdy.
Seems out of place-a stranger,-all in tatters,
I'll hire him-he'll divert my wife and daughters.
-Whence, and what art thou, boy?
PoL. An orphan lad, sir.
Pol is my name;-a shepherd once my dad, sir!
I' th' upper parts here-tho' not born to serving,
I'll now take on, for faith I'm almost starving.
SILENO. You've drawn a prize i' th' lottery.-So
have I, too;
Why,-I'm the master you could best apply to.




us




~c~ja~a~Ir


We'll dance to your strum-strum.




MIDAS.


15


DUET-APOLLO and SILENO.
SIL.  Since you mean to hire for service,
Come with me, you jolly dog;
You can help to bring home harvest,
'Tend the sheep, and feed the hog.
Fa la la.
With three crowns, your standing wages,
You shall daintily be fed;
Bacon, beans, salt beef, cabbages,
Butter-milk, and oaten bread.  Fa la la.
Come, strike hands, you'll live in cloer,
When we get you once at home,
And when daily labour 's over
We'll dance to your strum-strum.
Fa la la.
POL.  I strike hands, I take your offer,
Farther on I may fare worse;
Zooks, I can no longer suffer
Hungry guts and empty purse,  Fa la la.
SIL. Do strike hands; 'tis kind I offer;
POL. I strike hands, and take your offer;
SIL. Farther seeking, you'll fare worse;
POL. Farther on I may fare worse.
SIL. Pity such a lad should suffer,
POL. Zooks, I can no longer suffer,
SIL. Hungry guts and empty purse,
POL. Hungry guts and empty purse.  Fa la la.
[Exeunt, dancing and singing, L.


B2




16


MIDAS.


SCENE III.-SILENO'S Farm-House.
Enter DAPHNE and NYSA, R. MYsisfollowing behind.
DAPH. But Nysa, how goes on 'squire Midas'
courtship?
NYs. Your sweet Dametas, pimp to his great
worship,
Brought me from him a purse;-but the conditionsI've cur'd him, I believe, of such commissions.
DAPH. The moon calf! This must blast him with
my father.
NYs. Right. So we're rid of the two frights together.
BOTH. Ha! ha! ha!-ha! ha! ha!
MYsis. Heydey! what mare's nest's found?-For
ever grinning:
Ye rantipoles-is't thus you mind your spinning?
AIR-MYSIS.
Girls are known
To mischief prone,
If ever they be idle.
Who would rear
Two daughters fair,
Must hold a steady bridle.
For here they skip,
And there they trip,
And this and that way sidle.
Giddy maids,
Poor silly jades,
All after men are gadding;
They flirt pell-mell,
Their train to swell,




to
CA




C


Pray goody, please to moderate the raour of your tongue.
Pray goody, please to moderate the rancour of your tongue.




MIDAS.


To coxcomb, coxcomb adding:
To ev'ry fop
They're cock-a-hoop,
And set their mothers madding.
Enter SILENO, L. introducing POL.
SIL. Now, dame and girls, no more let's hear you
grumble
At too hard toil;-I chanc'd just now to stumble
On this stout drudge-and hir'd him-fit for labour.
To 'em, lad-then he can play and sing and caper.
MYs. Fine rubbish to bring home; a strolling
thrummer!
To POL.) What art thou good for? speak, thou ragged
mummer?
Nys. Mother, for shameMYs. Peace, saucebox, or I'll maul you.
POL. Goody, my strength and parts you undervalue:
For his or your work, I'm brisk and handy.
DAPH. A sad cheat elseMYs. What you, you jack-a-dandy?
AIR-PoL.
Pray, goody, please to moderate the rancour of your
tongue:
Why flash those sparks of fury from your eyes?
Remember, when the judgment's weak, the prejudice
is strong:
A stranger why will you despise?
Ply me,
Try me,
Prove, ere you deny me:
If you cast me
Off, you blast me,
Never more to rise.




MIDAS.


MYS. Sirrah, this insolence deserves a drubbing.
NYs. With what sweet temper he bears all her
snubbing!
SIL. Oons, no more words. —Go, boy, and get
your dinner.                [Exit POL, R.
SIL. Fye, why so cross-grain'd to a young beginner?
NYs. So modest!
DAPH. So genteel!
SIL. (To MYsis). Not pert, nor lumpish.
MYS. Would he were hang'd!
NYs. and DAPH. La! mother, why so frumpish.
QUARTET-NYSA, DAPHNE, MYSIS, SILENO.
NYS.    Mamma, how can you be so ill natur'd
To the gentle, handsome swain?
DAPH. To a lad so limb'd, so featur'd,
Sure 'tis cruel to give pain.
Sure 'tis cruel, &c.
MYs.    Girls, for you, my fears perplex me,
I'm alarm'd on your account:
SIL.   Wife, in vain you teaze and vex me,
I will rule, depend upon't.
NYs.    Ah! ah!
DAPH. Mamma!
NYs. and  Mamma, how can you be so ill-natur'd,
DAPH. 5Ah, ah, to a lad so limb'd and featur'd?
NYs. and? To the gentle, handsome swain,
DAPH.    Sure 'tis cruel to give pain;
NYs. and  Sure 'tis cruel to give pain;
DAPH.    To the gentle, handsome swain.
MYs.    Girls, for you my fears perplex me,
I'm alarm'd on your account.




MIDAS.


21


SIL.   Wife, in vain you teaze and vex me;
I will rule, depend upon't.
NYs.          Mamma!
MYs.          Psha! psha!
DAPH.         Papa,
SIL.          Ah! ah!
DAPH.     Mamma, how can you be so ill-natur'd,
SIL.      Psha, psha, you must not be so ill-natur'd,
NYS.    ) Ah, ah, to a lad so limb'd, so featur'd?
DAPH.     To the gentle, handsome swain,
SIL.      He's a gentle, handsome swain,
NYs.      Sure 'tis cruel to give pain,
MYS.    J 'Tis my pleasure to give pain.
DAPH.     Sure 'tis cruel to give pain,
SIL.      He's a gentle, handsome swain,
NYS.      To the gentle, handsome swain,
MYs.    ) To your odious, fav'rite swain.
[Exeunt, R.
Enter MIDAS and DAMEATAS, L.
MID. Nysa, you say, refus'd the guineas British.
DAM. Ah! please your worship-she is wond'rous
skittish.
MID. I'll have her, cost what 'twill. OdsbobsI'll force her —
DAM. The halterMID. As for madam; I'll divorce her —
Some favoured lout incog. our bliss opposes.
DAM. Ay, Pol, the hind puts out of joint our noses.
MID. I've heard of that Pol's tricks, of-his sly
tampering,
To fling poor Pan, but I'll soon send him scampering.




MIDAS.


'Sblood, I'll commit him-drive him to the gallows!
Where is old Pan?
DAM. Tippling, sir, at th' ale-house.
MID. Run, fetch him-we shall hit on some expedient,
To rout this Pol.
DAM. I fly; (Going, returns.) sir, your obedient.
[Exit, L.
MID. What boots my being 'squire,
Justice of peace, and quorum;
Churchwarden, knight o' th' shire,
And custos rotulorum;
If saucy little Nysa's heart rebellious,
My 'squireship slights, and hankers after fellows?
AIR.-MIDAS.
Shall a paltry clown, not fit to wipe my shoes,
Dare my amours to cross?
Shall a peasant minx, when Justice Midas woos,
Her nose up at him toss?
No: I'll kidnap-then possess her:
I'll sell her Pol a slave, get mundungus in exchange:
So glut to the height of pleasure
My love and my revenge.
No: I'll kidnap, &c.   [Exit, R.
SCENE VII. —Front of a Village Alehouse.
PAN is discovered sitting at a table, with a tankard,
pipes, and tobacco before him, his bagpipes lying
by him.
AIR-PAN.
Jupiter wenches and drinks,
He rules the roast in the sky;
Yet he's a fool, if he thinks
That he's as happy as I;




MIDAS.


Juno rates him
And grates him,
And leads his highness a weary life;
I have my lass,
And my glass,
And stroll a bachelor's merry life.
Let him fluster,
And bluster,
Yet cringe to his harridan's furbelow;
To my fair tulips,
I glue lips,
And clink the cannikin here below.
Enter DAMAITAS, L.
DAM. There sits the old soaker, his pate troubling
little
How the world wags, so he gets drink and vittle.
Hoa, master Pan, 'gad you've trod on a thistle!
You may pack up your all, sir, and go whistle.
The wenches have turn'd tail, to yon buck ranterTickled by his guitar, they scorn your chanter.
AIR.-DAMM^ETAS.
All round the May-pole how they trot,
Hot,
Pot,
And good ale have got;
Routing,
Shouting,
At you flouting,
Fleering,
Jeering,
And what not




24


MIDAS.


There is old Sileno frisks like a mad
Lad,
Glad
To see us sad:
Cap'ring,
Vap'ring;
While Pol, scraping,
Coaxes
The lasses
As he did the dad.        [Exit, i.
Enter MYSIS, L.
MYs. 0, Pan! the devi to pay, both my sluts
frantic!
Both in their tantrums, for you cap'ring antic.
But I'll go seek 'em all, and if I find 'em,
I'll drive 'em, as if Old Nick were behind 'em.
[Going, L.
PAN. Soa, soa-don't flounce;
Avast-disguise your fury.
Pol we shall trounce;
Midas is judge and jury.
AIR.-MYSIS.
Sure I shall run with vexation distracted,
To see my purposes thus counteracted!
This way or that way, or which way soever,
All things run contrary to my endeavour.
Daughters projecting,
Their ruin and shame,
Fathers neglecting
The care of their fame;
Nursing in bosom a treacherous viper;
Here's a fine dance-but'tis he pays the piper.
[Exeunt, R.




0 Pan   thile devil to pay, both my sluts frantic!








MIDAS.


SCENE X.-A wood and lawn, near SILENo'sfarm,
flocks grazing at a distance-A tender, slow symphony
-DAPHNE crosses, melancholic and silent, from L. to
R., NYSA watching her, then DAPHNE returns, running.
NYSA. 0 ho; is it so-Miss Daphne in the dumps?
Mum-snug's the word-I'll lead her such a dance
Shall make her stir her stumps.
To all her secret haunts,
Like a shadow, I'1 follow and watch her;
And, faith, mamma shall hear on't if I catch her.
[Retires, R.
DAPH. La, how my heart goes pit-a-pat; what
thumping,
E'r since my father brought us home this bumpkin.
AIR -DAPHNE.
He's as tight a lad to see to,
As e'er stepp'd in leather shoe,
And what's better, he'll love me, too,
And to him I'll prove true blue.
Though my sister casts a hawk's eye,
I defy what she can do,He o'erlook'd the little doxy,
I'm the girl he means to woo.
Hither I stole out to meet him,
He'll no doubt my steps pursue.
If the youth prove true, I'll fit him;
If he's false-I'll fit him, too.
Enter POL, L.
POL. Think o' the devil, 'tis said,
He's at your shoulder:
This wench was running in my head.
And pop, behold her.
c2




MIDAS.


AIR.-POL.
Lovely nymph, assuage my anguish;
At your feet, a tender swain
Prays you will not let him languish,
One kind look would ease his pain.
Did you know the lad who courts you,
He not long need sue in vain:
Prince of song, of dance, of sports-you
Scarce will meet his like again.
DAPH. Sir, you're such an olio
Of perfection in folio,
No damsel can resist you:
Your face so attractive,
Limbs so supple and active,
That by this light,
At the first sight,
I could have run and kiss'd you.
AIR-DAPHNE.
If you can caper, as well as you can modulate,
With the addition of that pretty face,
Pan, who was held by our shepherds a God o' late,
Will be kick'd out, and you set in his place.
His beard so frowsy, his gestures so awkward are,
And his bagpipe has so drowsy a drone,
That if they find you, as I did, no backwarder,
You may count on all the girls as your own.
MYS. (From within.) Pol, Pol, make haste, come
hither.
POL. Death! what a time to call;
Oh, rot your old lungs of leather.
B'ye, Daph.
DAPH.    B'ye, Pol.             [Exit POL, L.




MIDAS.


29


Enter NYSA, R.
NYs. Marry, come up, forsooth,
Is't me, you forward vixen,
You choose to play your tricks on:
And could your liquorish tooth
Find none but my sweetheart to fix on.
DAPH. Marry, come up again,
Indeed, my dirty cousin!
Have you a right to every swain?
NYs.     Ay, though a dozen.
DUET-DAPHNE and NYSA.
DAPH. My minikin miss, do you fancy that Pol
Can ever be caught by an infant's dol?
NYs. Can you, Miss Maypole, suppose he will fall
In love with the giantess of Guildhall?
DAPH.        Pigmy elf,
NYs.         Colossus itself,
BOTH. You will lie till you're mouldy upon the shelf.
DAPH. You stump o' th' gutter, you hop o' my thumb,
A husband for you must from Lilliput come.
NYs. You stalking steeple, you gawky stag,
Your husband must come from Brogdignag.
DAPH.        Sour grapes,
NYs.         Lead apes,
BOTH. I'll humble your vanity, Mistress Trapes.
DAPH.     Miss, your assurance,
NYs.        And, miss, your high airs,
DAPH.     Is past all endurance,
NYs.        Are at their last pray'rs.
DAPH. No more of those freedoms, Miss Nysa, I beg.
NYs. Miss Daphne's conceit must be lower'd a peg.
c3




30                  MIDAS.
DAPH.            Poor spite!
Nys.                 Pride hurt!
DAPH.           Liver white!
NYs.                 Rare sport!
DAPH.) Do, show your teeth, spitfire, do, but you
can't bite,
NYs.    This haughtiness soon will be laid in the dirt.
Poor spite, &c.
Pride hurt, &c.           [Exeunt, L.
'HE END OF THE FIRST ACT.




MIDAS.


ACT II.
SCENE I.-A Grove.
Enter NsA, followed by MIDAS, L.
MID.   Turn, tigress, turn; nay, fly notI have thee at a why not.
How comes it, little Nysy,
That heart, to me so icy,
Should be to Pol like tinder,
Burnt up to a very cinder?
Nrs.   Sir, to my virtue ever steady,
Firm as a rock
I scorn your shock?
But why this attack?
A miss can you lack,
Who have a wife already?
MID.    Ay, there's the curse-but she is old and
sickly;
And would my Nysa grant the favour quickly,
Would she yield now-I swear by the Lord Harry,
The moment madam's coffin'd, her I'll marry.
AIR-MIDAS.
0, what pleasures will abound,
When my wife is laid in ground!
Let earth cover her,
We'll dance over her,
When my wife is laid in ground.




MIDAS.


Oh, how happy should I be,
Would little Nysa pig with me!
How I'd mumble her,
Touze and tumble her,
Would little Nysa pig with me.
Nts. Young birds alone are caught with chaffAt your base scheme I laugh.
MID.         Yet take my vows.
Nys. I would not take your bond, sir.
MID.         Half my estateNys. No, nor the whole, my fond sir.
AIR-NYSA.
Ne'er will I be left i' the lurch;
Cease your bribes and wheedling:
Till I'm made a bride i' the church,
I'll keep man from meddling.
What are riches,
And soft speeches,
Baits and fetches,
To bewitch us,
When you've won us.
And undone us,
Cloy'd you shun us,
Frowning on us,
For our heedless peddling.    [Exit, i.
MIDAS-Solus.
MID. Well, master Poll I'll tickle,For him, at least, I have a rod in pickle.
When he's in limbo,
Not thus our hoity-toity miss
Will stick her arms a-kimbo.




MID)AS.


33


Enter PAN, L,
PAN. So, 'squire, well met-I flew to know your
business,
MID. Why, Pan, this Pol we must bring down upon
his knees.
PAN. That were a feat indeed; a feat to brag on.
MID. Let's home-we'll there concert it o'er a
flagon
I'll make him skipPAN.      As St. George did the dragon.
AIR-PAN.
If into your hen-yard,
The treacherous reynard
Steals slily, your poultry to ravage,
With gun you attack him,
With beagles you track him.
All's fair to destroy the fell savage.
So Pol, who comes picking
Up my tender chicken,
No means do I scruple to banish;
With power I'll o'erbear him,
With fraud I'll ensnare him,
By hook or by crook he shall vanish.
[Exeunt, L.
SCENE II.-A Lawn before MIDAS'S House.
Enter NYSA, R.
NYs. Good lack! what is come o'er me?
Daphne has stepp'd before!
Envy and love devour me,
Pol doats upon her phiz hard,
'Tis that sticks in my gizzard,




MIDAS.


Midas appears now twenty times more hideous,
Ah, Nysa, what resource?-a cloister.
Death alive-yet thither must I run,
And turn a nun,
Prodigious!
AIR-NYSA.
In these greasy old tatters
His charms brighter shine:
Then his guitar he clatters
With tinkling divine:
But my sister,
Ah! he kiss'd her,
And he pass'd me by;
I'm jealous
Of the fellow's
Bad taste and blind eye.    [Exit, L.
SCENE III.-MIDAS'S Parlour.
MIDAS, MYSIs, and PAN, in consultation over a large
bowl of punch, with pipes and tobacco.
MID. Come, Pan, your toast —
PAN. Here goes,-Our noble Umpire!
MYs. And Pol's defeat-I'll pledge it in a bumper.
MID. Hang him! in every scheme that whelp has
cross'd us.
MYs. Sure, he's the devil himself;
PAN.                Or Doctor Faustus.
MYs. Ah, 'squire!-for Pan would you but stoutly
stickle,
This Pol would soon be in a wretched pickle.
PAN. You reason rightMID. His toby I shall tickle.




I






/ />








=Kj --- —--


Jr
Let's take one bcuze, aud roar a catch.




MIDAS.


37


MYS. Look, squire, I've sold my butter, here its
price is
At your command, do but this job for Mysis.
Count 'em-six guineas and an old Jacobus,
Keep Pan, and shame that scapegrace coram nobis.
MID. Goody, as 'tis your request,
I pocket this here stuff;
And as for that there peasant,
Trust me, I'll work his buff.
At the musical struggle
I'll bully and juggle;
My award
Your sure card;
Blood, he shall fly his country-that's enough.
PAN. Well said, my lad of wax.
MID. Let's end the tankard,
I have no head for business till I've drank hard.
PAN. Nor have my guts brains in them till they're
addle,
When I'm most rocky I best sit my saddle.
MID. Well, come, let's take one bouze, and roar a
catch,
Then part to our affairs.
PAN. A match.
MYS. A match.
TRIO-MIDAS, PAN, and MYSIS.
MID. Master Poll,
And his toll. de-roll-loll,
I'll buffet away from the plain, sir.
PAN. And I'll assist
Your worship's fist
With all my might and main, sir.
a




38


MIDAS.


MYr. And I'll have a thump,
Though he is so plump,
And make such a wounded racket.
MID. I'll bluff,
PAN.   I'll rough,
MYS. I'll huff,
MID. I'll cuff,
OMN.     And I'll warrant we pepper his jacket.
MID. For all his cheats,
And wenching feats,
He shall rue on his knees 'em.
O skip, by goles,
As high as Paul's,
Like ugly witch on besom;
Arraign'd he shall be,
Of treason to me!
PAN. And I with my davy will back it,
I'll swear,
MID. I'll snare,
MYs. I'll tear,
OMN. 0 rare!
And I'll warrant we'll pepper his jacket.
[Exeunt, R.
SCENE IV.-Enter SILENO and DAMATAS in warm
argument, L.
SIL. My Daph a wife for thee; the squire's base
pander!
To the plantations sooner would I send her.
DAM. Sir, your good wife approv'd my offers.
SIL. Name her not, hag of Endor,
What knew she of thee but thv coffers?




MIDAS. -


DAM. And shall this ditch-born whelp, this jackan-apes,
By dint of congees and of scrapes —
SIL. These are thyslanders and thatcanker'dhag'sDAM. A thing made up of pilfer'd ragsSIL. Richer than thou with all thy brags,
Of flocks and herds, and money bags.
DUET-SILENO and DAMAETAS.
If a rival thy character draw,
In perfection he'll find out a flaw;
With black he will paint,
Make a de'il of a saint,
And change to an owl a macaw.
DAM. Can a father pretend to be wise,
Who his friend's good advice would despise?
Who, when danger is nigh,
Throws his spectacles by,
And blinks through a green girl's eyes?
SI.. You're an impudent pimp and a grub.
DAM. You are fool'd by a beggarly scrub;
Your betters you snub.
SJL. Who will lend me a club,
This insolent puppy to drub?
You're an impudent pimp and a grub.
DAM. You're cajoled by a beggarly scrub,
SIL. Who will rot in a powdering tub,
DAM. Whom the prince of impostors I dub;
SIL. A guinea for a club,
DAM. Your bald pate you'll rub,
SIL. This muckworm to drub.
DAM. When you find that your cub
E 2




MIDAS.


SIL. Rub off, sirrah, rub, sirrah, rub.
DAM. Is debauch'd by a whipp'd syllabub.
Enter MYSIs, attended by DAPHNE and NYSA, L.
MYS. Soh!-you attend the trial-we shall drive
hence
Your vagabond —
SIL. I smoke your foul contrivance.
DAPH. Ah, Nys, our fate depends upon this issueNYs. Daph, for your sake, my claim I here forego;
And with your Pol much joy I wish you.
DAPH. 0, gemini, say'st thou me so?
Dear creature, let me kiss you.
NYs. Let's kneel, and beg his stay, papa will
back us.
DAPH. Mamma will storm.
NYs. What then? she can but whack us.
QUINTET-DAPHNE, NYSA, MYSIS, SILENO, and
DAM&ETAS.
DAPH. Mother, sure you never
Will endeavour
To dissever
From my favour
So sweet a swain;
None so clever
E'er trod the plain.
NYs.    Father, hopes you gave her,
Don't deceive her,
Can you leave her
Sunk for ever
In pining care?
Haste and save her
From black despair.




MIDAS.


41


DAPH. Think of his modest grace,
His voice, shape, and face;
NYs.    Hearts alarming,
DAPH. Bosoms warming,
NYS.    Wrath disarming,
DA PH.      With his soft lay:
Nys.    He's so charming,
Ay, let him stay,
BOTH.     He's so charming, &c.
MYS.    Sluts, you are lost to shame?
SIL.   Wife, wife, be more tame.
MYS.   This is madness!
SIL.   Sober sadness!
Mrs.   I with gladness
Could see him swing,
For his badness.
SIL.     'Tis no such thing.
DAM.   Must Pan resign to this fop his employment?
Must I to him yield of Daph the enjoyment?
MYs.   Ne'er while a tongue I brandish,
Fop outlandish,
Daph shall blandish.
DAM.   Will you reject my income,
Herds and clinkum?
SIL    Rot and sink 'em.
DAM.   Midas must judge.
MYS.   And Pol must fly.
SIL.   Zounds, Pol sha'nt budge:
MYS.   You lie;
DAM.   You lie;
MYs.
DAM.    You lie, you lie.
SIL. )
E;3




42                  MIDAS.
NYs.    Pan's drone is fit for wild rocks and bleak
mountains;
DAPH. Pol's lyre suits best our cool grots and clear
fountains.
NYs.    Pol is young and merry,
DAPH. Light and airy,
SIL.   As a fairy.
NYs.    Pan is old and musty;
DAPH. Stiff and fusty;
SIL.    Sour and crustv.
DAPH. Can you banish Pol?
NYS.      No, no, no, no;
Let Pan fall.
DAPH.     Ay, let him go.
NYS.
DAPH. Ay, let him go.
SIL. )
MIDAS comes forth enraged, attended by a crowd of
Nymphs and Swains, from the upper part of the
stage.
MID. Peace, ho! is hell broke loose? what means
this jawing?
Under my very nose this clapper clawing!
AIR-MIDAS.
What the devil's here to do,
Ye logger-heads and gipsies!
Sirrah you, and hussy you,
And each of you tipsy is;
But I'll as sure pull down your pride as
A gun, or as I'm Justice Midas.




MIDAS.


43


CHORUS-NYMPHS and SWAINS.
0, tremendous Justice Midas!
Who shall oppose wise Justice Midas?
MID. I'm given to understand that you're all in a
pother here.
Disputing whether Pan or Pol shall pipe to you another
year,
Dare you think yourclumsy lugs so proper to decide as
The delicate ears of Justice Midas?
CHORUS-O, tremendous, &c.
MID. So, you allow it then, ye mobbish rabble'?
Enter POL, R. and PAN, L. severally.
Oh, here come Pol and Pan-now stint your gabble.
Fetch my great chair,-I'll quickly end this squabble.
AIR-MIDAS.
Now I'm seated,
I'll be treated
Like the sophi on his throne;
In my presence,
Scoundrel peasants
Shall not call their souls their own.
My behest is,
He who best is,
Shall be fix'd musician chief;
Ne'er the loser
Shall show nose here,
But be transported like a thief.
CHORUS-O, tremendous, &c.
DAM. Masters, will you abide by this condition?
PAN. I ask no better.




44


MIDAS.


POL.              I'm all submission.
PAN. Strike up, sweet sir.
POL.                  Sir, I attend your leisure.
MID. Pan, take the lead.
PAN.             Since 'tis your worship's pleasure.
AIR —PAN.
A pox on your pother about this or that;
Your shrieking or squeaking, a sharp or a flat;
I'm sharp by my bumpers, you're a flat, master Pol;
So here goes a set-to at toll-de-roll-loll.
When Beauty her pack of poor lovers would hamper,
And after Miss Will o'th' Whisp the fools scamper;
Ding dong, in sing song, they the lady extol:
Pray what's all this fuss for, but —toll-de-roll-loll.
Mankind are a medley —a chance medley race;
All start in full cry, to give dame Fortune chace:
There's catch as catch can, hit or miss, luck is all;
And luck's the best tune of life's toll de-roll-loll.
I've done, please your worship, 'tis rather too long;
MID. Not at all,
I only meant life is but an old song:
The world's but a tragedy, comedy, droll;
Where all act the scene of toll-de-roll-loll.
MID. By jingo, well perform'd for one of his age;
How, hang dog, don't you blush to show your visage?
POL. Why master Midas, for that matter,
'Tis enough to dash one,
To hear the arbitrator,
In such unseemly fashion,
One of the candidates bespatter
With so much partial passion.
[Midasfalls asleep.




MIDAS.


45


AIR-POL.
Ah, happy hours, how fleeting,
Ye danc'd on down away;
When my soft vows repeating,
At Daphne's feet I lay!
But from her charms when sunder'd,
As Midas' frowns presage,
Each hour will seem an hundred;
Each day appear an age.
CHORus-A Pol! A Pol! A Pan! A Pan!
MID. Silence-this just decree, all at your peril,
Obedient hear ---else I shall use you very ill.
THE DECREE.
Pan shall remain;
Pol quit the plain.
CHORUs-Oh tremendous, &c.
MID. All bow with me to mighty Pan- enthrone
himNo pouting —  and with festalchorus crown him -
[The Crowd form two ranks beside the chair, and join
in the Chorus, whilst MIDAS crowns him with bays.)
CHORUS.
See triumphant sits the bard,
Crown'd with bays, his due reward;
Exil'd Pol shall wander far;
Exil'd twang his faint guitar;
While with echoing shouts of praise,
We the bagpipe's glory raise.
MID. 'Tis well.-What keeps your here, you ragamuffin?
Go trudge-or do you wait for a good cuffing?




46


MIDAS.


POL. Now, all attend.
[Throws off his disguise, and appears as APOLLO.
The wrath of Jove, for rapine,
Corruption, lust, pride, fraud, there's no escaping.
Tremble, thou wretch; thou stretch'dst thy utmost
tether;
Thou and thy tools shall go to pot together.
AIR-POL.
Dunce, I did but sham,
For Apollo I am,
God of Music, and king of Parnass;
Thy scurvy decree,
For Pan against me,
I reward with the ears of an ass.
[Midas's wig falls of, and the ears of an ass appear
on his head.
MID. Detected, balk'd, and small.
On our marrow-bones we fall.
Mrs.          Be merciful.
DAM.          Be pitiful.
MID. Forgive us, mighty Sol.-Alas! alas!
AIR-APOLLO.
APOL.     Thou a Billingsgate quean,   [To MYs.
Thou a pander obscene,        [To DAM.
With strumpets and bailiffs shall class;
Thou, driven from man,        [To MID.
Shalt wander with Pan,
He a stinking old goat, thou an ass, an ass, &c.,
Be thou Squire-his estate      [To SIL.
To thee I translate.




rl e r-i
-Ak, MA
L==4't t)


TV, -  L -
,              t-(,q,
hR?                               -AOA
I reward with the ears ofan ass.


r.cmikrkl








MIDAS.                  49
To you his strong chests, wicked mass;
[To DAPH. and NYs.
Live happy, while I,
Recall'd to the sky,
Make all the gods laugh at Midas.
DAPHi ( Togetherwith' To the bright God of day,
"SIL.      the other  Let us dance, sing, and play;
"Mys.    Nymphs and (Clap hands everyladwithhis
Swains.        lass;
"DAPH. Now, critics, lie snug,
' Not a hiss, groan, or shrug;
"Remember the fate of Midas,
"Midas;
"Remember the fate of Midas.
" CHORUs-Now, critics, lie snug," &c.
The scene usually changes, discovering the Gods as
in the opening scene of the Burletta. Apollo is married by Jupiter, and the Gods ascend, singing in
clouds " Jove in his chair."












Li


-lm.                'L w —c  gt
Welcome, thrice welcome, mighty Thomas Thumb!




TOM THUMB;
R  iurletta,
ALTERED FROM HENRY FIELDING,
BY KANE O'HARA.
WITH DESIGNS
BY
GEORGE CRUIKSHANK.


LONDON:
JOSEPH THOMAS, FINCH LANE, CORNHILL;
AND 8IMPKIN AND MARSHALL, STATIONERS' COURT.


MDCCCXXXVII,




LONIDON:
J. UNWIN, ST. PETER'S ALLEY,
CORNHILL.




TOM THUMB, to whose exploits we have listened with delight
in our childhood, and witnessed on the stage with laughter and
amusement in our later years, is a hero whose origin is enveloped in equal obscurity with that of many others of old and
later time; rival nations contend for the honour of his birth,
and rival antiquaries advance their several theories respecting
him with equal confidence and pertinacity.
The Author of " Tom Thumbe his Life and Death," 8vo.
1630, asserts him to have been of British origin:
"In Arthur's Court, Tom Thumb did live,
A man of mickle might,
The best of all the table round,
And eke a doughty knight."*
And the erudite Commentator on that work, (edit. 1711,)
takes the same side of the question; but the learned namesake
of our Hero, TOM HEARNE, degrades him to the rank of a
dwarf in the court of King Edgar.t Mr. E. Taylor,$ with
greater probability, traces him to the D)umbling, or Littlerhumb, of the Northern nations, and considers him to have
formed one of that hardy band of the descendants of Odin,
whom Hengist and Horsa led into Britain. Leaving the
decision of this important national question to the very learned,
The Society of Antiquaries, and The Royal Society of Literature, we proceed to the history of the drama founded on his
exploits.
The muse of Fielding, a name sacred to genius, first presented him before the                              ' rl  _i 7., in
burlesauLO thX  Jlaj fa     kagadie, filled with.turgdgi
and bombast sgeeches andvapi.d   aia on. T   encounter
these and drive them from the tage,. n weapn was o proper
as ridjcule;.nd, wielded by such a hand, none was more
effective. The putting into the mouths of Arthur and his
mock Court the same speeches parodied, or slightly altered,
had the most ludicrous effect, and immediately succeeded in
opening the eyes of the public to the glare and tinsel by which
they had been dazzled. The genuine wit and satire in the
piece, kept it a favourite long after the purpose which called it
forth was answered; and, as altered by O Hara, it is still
deservedly popular with the play going public.
The pencil of the Artist has in these times the power which
* Ritson's Pieces of Ancient Popular Poetry, 8vo. 1791.
t Benedictus Abbas, Appendix ad Praefitionem, p LV.
t German Popular Stories, vol. i. notes.
B 3




6
in days of yore was ascribed to the wand of the Enchanter
Merlin-by it TOM THUMB is again called into an existence,
which promises to be lasting as the well-earned fame of his
facetious historian, GEORGE CRUIKSHANK.
Dramatis Persone, Costume and Stage Directions.
KING ARTHUR —   Antique square-skirted royal embroidered
suit, flowing wig, three-cornered hat with feathers, red
stockings rolled over, high-heeled shoes, with square
toes and buckles, sword, gauntlet, belt, and baton.
TOM THuMi —Flesh legs and arms, Roman breast-plate, shirt,
&c., the dress studded with steel, helmet with plume of
feathers, belt, sword, red sandals, &c.
MERLN —Large black gown, high black cap and belt, all with
cabalistic characters, grey wig, and long beard.
LORD GRIZZLE-Antique velvet court suit, satin waistcoat,
scarlet stockings, square-toed shoes with buckles, threecornered hat, belt, and sword.
NOODLE and DOODLE-Antique court dresses, &c.
GHOST of GAFFER THUMB-Smock frock, white face, grey
wig, and countryman's hat.
QUEEN DOLLALOLLA-Full antique court satin dress, wig
fully curled, powdered and ornamented with various
coloured flowers, embroidered stomacher, hooped petticoat, high-heeled shoes, &c.
HUNCAMUNCA-Embroidered antique court dress, &c.
GLUMDALcA-Full hooped satin dress, silver breast-plate, and
helmet with plume of feathers, &c.
FRIZALETTA, PLUMANTE, and LADIES OF THE COURT-Antique
court dress.


R. means Right.-L. Left.      C. Centre.




TOM THUMB.
ACT I.
SCENE I.-A Palace yard.
Enter DOODLE on the right, and NOODLE on the
left-after a long obeisance, they embrace.
DUET.
DOOD. Sure such a day,
So renowned, so victoriousSuch a day as this was never seen;
Courtiers so gay,
And the mob so uproariousNature seems to wear an universal grin.
NooD. Arthur to Doll
Is grown bobbish and uxorious;
While both she and Huncamunca tipple, talking
tawdry,
Even Mr. Sol,
So tifted out, so glorious,
Glitters like a beau in a new birth-day embroidery.
DoOD. Oh, 'tis a day,
Of jubilee, cajollery;
A day we never saw before,
A day of fun and drollery.




TOM THUMB.


NooD. That you may say,
Their majesties may boast of it;
And since it never can come more,
'Tis fit they make the most of it.
DooD. Oh, 'tis a day, &c.
NooD. That you may say, &c.
DOOD. Sure such a day, &c.
NOOD. Courtiers so gay, &c.
DooD. Yes, Noodle, yes:-to-day the mighty
Thumb
Returns triumphant. Captive giants swarm
Like bees behind his car.  [Flourish of trumpets.
NOOD. These trumpets speak theKing at levee, I go.
DooD. And I also-to offer my petition.
NooD. Doodle, do.
[Exeunt DOODLE. R. NOODLE. L.
SCENE II.-Inside of the Palace.
The KING and QUEEN seated on a throne. Lord
GRIZZLE, Courtiers, and Attendants. DOODLE and
NOODLE apart. They all come forward.
KING. Let no face but a face of joy be seen;
The man who this day frowns, shall lose his head,
That he may have no face to frown withalSmile, Dollalolla!
DOOD. (kneeling) Dread liege
This petitionKING. (dashes it away) Petition me no petitions,
sir, to-day;




TOM THUMB.


9


To-day it is our pleasure to be drunk,
And this, our Queen, shall be as drunk as we.
QUEEN. Is't so? why then perdition catch the
failers,
Let's have a rouse and get as drunk as tailors.
AIR.
What though I now am half seas o'er,
I scorn to baulk this boutOf stiff rack punch fetch bowls a score,
'Fore George, I'll see them out.
What though, &c.
But, sir, your queen 'twould ill become,
T' indulge in vulgar sips;
No drop of brandy, gin, or rum,
Should pass these royal lips.
But, sir, &c.
Chorus.-Rum ti iddity, row, row, row,
If we'd a good sup, we'd take it now.
KING. Though rack, in punch, ten shillings were
a quart,
And rum and brandy be but half-a-crown,
Rather than quarrel, thou shalt have thy fill.
[Flourish of trumpets. L.
NoOD. These martial sounds, my liege, announce
the general.
KING. Haste we to meet, and meetly to receive
him.                    [Martial music.
L. Enter TOM THUMB, Soldiers, and GLUMDALCA
in chains.
Welcome, thrice welcome, mighty Thomas Thumb!
Thou tiny hero-pigmy giant queller!
What gratitude can thank away the debt




TOM THUMB.


Thy valour puts upon us.
[Takes him up and embraces him.
QUEEN. Oh! ye gods!                 [Aside.
TOM. When I'm not thank'd at all, I'm thank'd
enoughI've done my duty, and I've done no more. [Bows.
QUEEN. Was ever such a god-like creature seen!
KING. Thy modesty's a flambeau to thy merit;
It shines itself, and shows thy merit too.
O Tommy, Tommy Thumb! what to thy prowess
do we owe?
Ask some reward-great as we can bestow.
TOM. I ask not kingdoms-I can conquer those;
I ask not money-money I've enough:
If this be call'd a debt, take my receipt in full,
I ask but this, to sun myself in Huncamunca's eyes.
KING. (aside) Prodigious bold request!
QUEEN. Be still my soulKING. (after a pause) It is resolv'd!
The princess is thy own.         [To THUMB.
TOM. O happy Tommy! super happy Thumb!
Whisper, ye winds, that Huncamunca's mine!
The bloody business of grim war is o'er,
And beauty, heavenly beauty, crowns my toils.
AIR.
As when the chimney-sweeper,
Has all the live-long day,
Through darksome paths a creeper,
Pursu'd his sooty way:
At night, to wash with water
His hands and face he flies;
And, in his t'other tatter,
With his Brickdusta lies.
[Flourish of trumpets. Exit. L.




TOM THUMB.


11


KING. (looking fondly at GLUMDALCA) I feel a
sudden pain across my breast-  [Aside.
Nor know I whether it proceed from love
Or the wind cholic-but time will shew.-Hugeous
Queen of Hearts.
Sure thou wer't form'd by all the gods in council;
Who, having made a lucky hit beyond their journey-work,
Cry'd out-" This is a woman!"
GLUMD. Then were the gods confoundedly mistakenWe are a giantess-I tell thee, Arthur,
We yesterday were both a queen and wife;
One hundred thousand giants own'd our sway;
Twenty whereof were wedded to ourself.
QUEEN. Oh blest prerogative of giantism! [Aside.
KING. Oh! vast queen!-Think our court thine
own;
Call for whate'er thou likest-there's nought to pay,
Nor art thou captive, but thy captive we.
[Takes off her chain.
QUEEN. [aside] Ha! Arthur faithless!
This gag my rival too, in dear Tom Thumb!
Revenge!-but I'll dissemble-  [To Glumdalca.'
Madam, believe that -with a woman's eye
I view your loss-take comfort-for to-morrow
Our grenadiers shall be called out, then choose
As many husbands asyoqu think you'll want.
GLUMD. Madam, I rest your much obliged and
very humble servant.  Exit with Guards. L.
QUEEN., Though greater yet Tom's boasted merit
was,
He shall not have my daughter, that is pos.
[Advancing to the King.




TOM THUMB.


KING. Ha! say'st thou?
QUEEN. Yes, I say he shan't.
KING. How, shan't!
Now by our royal self, we swear-I'll be damn'd
but he shall.
AIR.-Queen.
Then tremble all, who weddings ever made,
And tremble more who did this match persuade;
For like a worried cat, I'll spit, I'll squall,
I'll scratch, I'll tear the eyes out of ye all.
[Exeunt Queen and ladies. L. The King
throws his hat after the Queen.
DooD. Her majesty, the Queen, is in a passion.
KING. She may be damn'd. Who cares? We
were, indeed,
A pretty king of clouts, were we to truckle
To all her maudlin humours.
AIR.
We kings, who are in our senses,
Mock our consorts violences;
Pishing at their moods and tenses,
Our own will we follow.
If the husband once gives way
To his wife's capricious sway,
For his breeches he next day
May go to whoop and hollow. [Exeunt R.




TOM THUMB.


13


SCENE III.-Outside of the Palace.
L. Enter Lord GRIZZLE.
GRIZ. -      Arthur wrongs me!
Cheats me of my Huncamunca!
Rouse thee, Grizzle! 'Sblood, I'll be a rebel.
Alas! what art thou, honour?
A Monmouth street lac'd coat, gracing to-day
My back; to-morrow glittering on another'sTo arms! to arms!
R. Enter QUEEN in a rage.
QUEEN. Teach me to scold, 0 Grizzle!
GRIZ. Scold, would my Queen?-say, wherefore?
QUEEN. Wherefore?
Faggots and fire-my daughter to Tom Thumb!
GRIZ. I'll mince the atom into countless pieces.
QUEEN. Oh! no! prevent the match, but hurt
not himHim!-thou!-thou kill the man
Who kill'd the giants?
GRIZ. Giants?-why, madam, 'tis all fiummery,
He made the giants first, and then he kill'd them.
QUEEN. How! hast thou seen no giants? Are
there not
Now in our yard ten thousand proper giants?
GRIZ. Madam, shall I tell you what I'm going
to say? I do not positively know, but, as near as I
can guess, I cannot tell; though I firmly do believe
there is not one.
c




TOM THUMB.


QUEEN. Out from my sight, base Pickthank
hie, begone!
By all my stars, thou enviest Tom Thumb
GRIZ. Yes, yes, I go; but, madam, know,
(Since your majesty's so pert)
That a flood of Tommy's blood
To allay this storm shall spirt.
[Exeunt QUEEN R. GRIZZLE. L.
SCENE IV.-An Anti-Chamber.
The KING on a couch.
KING.   --    Methought
I heard a voice say, " Sleep no more!
Glumdalca exiles sleep"-and, therefore, Arthur
Can sleep no more.
The GHOST of GAFFER THUMB rises, with a lantern
on a pitchfork.
GHOST. Oh, Arthur! Arthur! Arthur
Soon shalt thou sleep enough.
KING. Ah! what art thou?
GHOST. The ghost of Gaffer Thumb.
KING. A ghost!-stand off!
I'll have thee laid in the Red Sea.
GHOST. Oh, Arthur! take heed!
My thread is spun-list, list, oh list!
AIR.
Pale death is prowling,
Dire omens scowling,




A ghost -stand off!




I




TOM THUMB.


Doom thee to slaughter,
Thee, thy wife, and daughter;
Furies are growling,
With horrid groans:
Grizzle's rebellion,
What need I tell you on?
Or by a red cow
Tom Thumb devour'd?      [cock crows.
Hark! the cock crowing.
I must be going,
I can no more     [vanishes.
KING. No more! and why no more, or why so
much?
Better quite ignorant than half-instructed.
By Jove, this bo-peep ghost makes game of us,
Therefore, fate, keep your secret to yourself.
AIR.
Such a fine King as I don't fear your threats of a rush,
Do shew your sweet phiz again, and I'll quickly
call up a blush.
For I am up, up, up,
But you are down, down, down,
Do pop up your nob again,
And egad I'll crack your crown.
Who cares foryou, Mr. Ghost? or all that you can do;
I laugh at your stupid threats, and your cock-adoodle-do;
For I am up, up, up,
But you are down, down, down;
Draw your sword like a man,
Or I'll box you for a crown.
[Dances round the trap, and exit. L.
c 3




TOM THUMB.


SCENE V.-HUNCAMUNCA'S Dressing-Room.
HUNCAMUNCA at her Toilette, FRIZALwTTA waiting.
HUNc. Give me some music,-see that it be sad.
[Band playts a strain.
Oh Tommy Thumb! why art thou Tommy Thumb?
Why had not mighty Bantam been thy father?
Why not the king of Brentford, old or new?
FRhZ. -Mtadamrnd-Gfle zle.
L. Enter Lord GRIZZLE.
GRIZ. (kneeling) Oh, Huncamunca! Huncamunca,
oh!
HUNC. This to my rank,-bold man?
GRIZ. Ah, beauteous princess!
Love levels rank-lords down to cellar bears,
And bids the brawny porter walk up stairs.
Nought is for love too high, nor ought too lowOh, Huncamunca! Huncamunca, oh!
HUNC. My lord, in vain, a suitoring you come,
For I'm engaged this instant to Tom Thumb!
GRIZ. Play not the fool-that less than baby shun,
Or you will ne'er be brought to bed of one.
HUNC. Am I thus fobb'd?-then I my words recall.
GRIZ. Shall I to Doctor's Commons?
HUNC. Do so pray —
I now am in the mood, and cannot stay.
AIR.-GRIZZLI.
In hurry post for a licence,
In hurry, ding dong, I o6me back;
For that you shan't need bid me twice hence,
I'll be there, and hire in a crack.




I




I~~


(I


Hey ting, my heart's on the wing.




TOM THUMB.


21


He ting,   /
My heart's n the wing,
I now could leap o   the moon;
Let the chapain
Set us grpp'ling,
And we'll s(ck a baby-house'sqon.  Exit. L.
N.
R. Enter TOM THUMB.
TOM. Where is my Huncamunca? where's my
princess?
Where those bright eyes, the card-matches of Cupid,
That light up all with love my waxen soul?
HUNC. Put out the light, nor waste thy little taper.
TOM. Put out the light? impossible!
As well Sir Solomon might put out his rushlight.
HUNC. I am to Lord Grizzle promis'd.
TOM. Promis'd?
HUNC. Too sure-'tis enter'd in fate's journal.
TOM. Enter'd?
Zounds! I'll tear out the leaf-I'll blot the pageI'll burn the book!
I tell thee, princess, had I been thy helpmate,
We soon had peopled thiswhole realmwith Thumbs.
HUNC. 0 fie! I shudder at the gross idea!
TOM. Then go we to the King-let him decide
Whether you shall be Grizzle's or my bride.
[Going outhand-in-4and are metbyGLUMDALCA. L.
GLUMD. Stop, brandy-nose! hopestthou the wight,
Who once hath worn my easy chains, will toil in thine?
HUNC. Easy, no doubt, bytwenty husbands worh.
TOM. In the balcony which o'erhangs the stage,
I've seen one wench two 'prentices engage:




TOM THUMB.


This half-a-crown doth in his fingers hold,
That just lets peep a little bit of gold:
Miss the half-guinea wisely does purloin,
And scorns the bigger and the baser coin.
TRIO.
GLUMD. Oh, the vixen pigmy brat,
Of inches scarce half six,
To slight me for a chit like that!
Ah! Mr. Tom, are these your tricks?
HUNC. Oh! the coarse salacious trull,
Who giant paramours twice ten
To bed can pull,
With hugs can lull,
Yet still would gull
Young gentlemen I
ToM.   Little though I be,
I scorn the sturdy strum;
Nor ever she,
My dear, from thee
Shall debauch thy own Tom Thumb.
GLUMD. Oh the vixen, &c.
HUNC. Oh the coarse, &c.
TOM. Little though I be, &c.
[Exeunt, GLUMDALCA. L. TOM and HuNCAMUNCA. R.




TOM THUMB.


23


ACT II.
SCENE I.-The Court of the Palace.
L. Enter NOODLE.
NOOD. Sure Nature means t'unhinge the solic
globe!
Chaos is come again-all's topsy-turvy;
AIR.
King Arthur in love ankle deep-speed the plough,
Glumdalca will soon be his punk-a;
The Queen Dollalolla's as drunk as a sow,
In bed with Tom Thumb, Huncamunca.
R. Enter Lord GRIZZLE hastily.
GRIZ. If this be true, all women kind are damn'd.
NOOD. If it be not, may I be damn'd myself.
[Exit. R.
GRIZ. Then, get out, patience! oh, I'm whirlwind
all;
Havock, let loose the dogs of war, halloo! [Exit. L.
SCENE II.-A Chamber in the Palace.
R. Enter QUEEN.
QUEEN. Ah! wherefore from his Dollalolla's arms
Doth Arthur steal? Why all alone,
And in the dark, leave her, whose feeble nerves
He knows, are harrow'd up with fears of spirits!




24


TOM THUMB.


L. Enter KING.
KING. We hop'd the fumes, sweet Queen, of last
night's punch
Had glued thy lovely eyes; but, ah! we find
There is no power in drams to quiet wives.
R. Enter NOODLE.
NOOD. Long life to both your majesties-if life
Be worth a fig! Lord Grizzle, at the head
Of a rebellious rout, invests the palace;
He swears, unless the princess straight
Be yielded up with Tom Thumb's pate,
About your ears he will beat down the gate.
King. The devil he will!-But see, the princess.
R. Enter HUNCAMUNCA.
Say, where's the mighty Thumb, our sword and
buckler?
Though 'gainst us men and giants league with gods,
Yet Thumb alone is equal to more odds.
HUNC. About an hour and a half ago
Tom sallied forth to meet the foe,
And soon who's who he'll make them know.
KING. Oh! oh!
Come, Dollalolla, Huncamunca, come;
Within we'll wait in whole skins for Tom Thumb.
[Exeunt KING, QUEEN, and HUNCAMUNCA. L.
NOODLE. R.




TOM THUMB.


SCENE III.-A Plain.
L. Enter Lord GRIZZLE, NOODLE, and Rebels. The
orchestra playing a march.
GRIZ. Thus far with victory our arms are crown'd;
For, tho' we have not fought, yet have we found
No enemy to fight withal.  [Drums and trumpets.
R. Enter THUMB, DOODLE, and Soldiers.
TOM. Art thou the man, whom men fam'd Grizzle
call?
GRIZ. Art thou the much more fam'd Tom Thumb
the small?
TOM. The same.
GRIZ. The same.
TOM. His prowess now each prove.
GRIZ. For liberty I stand.
TOM. AndIforlove. [Charge oftrumpets. A battle between the two armies, they fight of. R. & L.
Enter GLUMDALCA. L. and meets GRIZZLE. R.
GLUMD. Turn, coward, turn! nor from a woman
fly!
GRIZ. Thou art unworthy of my arm.
GLUMD. Am I?
Have at thy heart then! [Thrusts at, but misses him.
GRIZ. Rampant queen of sluts!
Now have at thine.                   [Strikes.
GLUMD. You've run me through the guts.
GRIZ. Then there's an end of one.
[Going, is met by TOM THUMB,who runs him through.
D




TOM THUMB.


TOM. An end of two!
Thou hast it.  [Exit. R. GLUMD. staggers off. L.
GRIZ. Oh, Tom Thumb! (falls) thysoulbeshrew
I die-Ambition! the fates have made their tour,
And the black cart is waiting at the door.
AIR.
My body is a bankrupt's shop,
My cruel creditor, grim death;
Who puts to life's brisk trade a stop,
And will be paid with my last breath.
Oh! Oh! Oh!                    [Dies.
Enter TOM THUMB and Attendants.
TOM. Bear off the carcases; lop off his knob,
'Twill witness to the King, Tom Thumb's good job.
Rebellion's dead, and now-I'll go to breakfast.
[Exit. R.
[Attendants lay hold of GRIZZLE.]
GRIZ. Why dost thou call me from the peaceful
grave?
ATTEN. Sir, we came to bear your body off.
GRIZ. Then I'll bear it off myself. [Exeunt. L.
SCENE IV.-The Presence-Chamber.
The KING, QUEEN, HUNCAMUNCA, DOODLE, PLUMANTE, FRIZALETTA, and Attendants.
KING. Open the prisons,    the wretched free,
And bid our treasurer dis ise five guineas




0 -0
0D
0


V)


/)1.




Ii




TOM THUIMB.


29


To pay their debts.-Let our arch necromancer,
Sage Merlin, straight attend us:-we the while
Will view the triumph of our son-in-law.
HUNC. Take note, sir, thatonthis our wedding day
Two victories hath my gallant hiiiuad won.
L. Enter NOODLE.
NooD. Oh, monstrous dreadful, terrible! oh! oh!
KING. What means the blockhead?
NooD. But to grace my tale with decent horror,
Tom Thumb is no more!
A huge red cow, just now i' th' open street,
Before my eyes, devour'd the great Tom Thumb!
[A general groan.
KING. Shut —l-ut again the prisons:
Let our treasurer  ' ~
Not issue out t earthin.    g all the culprits,
And bi     schoolmasters whip altlir little boys.
NooD. Her majesty the Queen is in a swoon.
QUEEN. Not so much in a swoon, but to have still
Strength to reward the messenger of ill.
[Kills Noodle with her dagger.
FRIZ. (seizing the dagger) My lover kill'dHis death I thus revenge.     [Kills the Queen.
HUNC. (seizing the dagger) Kill my mamma!
O base assassin! there!       [Kills Frizaletta.
DOOD. (seizing the dagger) For that take this!
[Kills Huncamunca.
PLUM. (seizing the dagger) And thou take that.
[Kills Doodle.
KING. (seizing the dagger) Die murderess vile!
[Kills Plumante.


Ah! death makes a feast to-day,


D3




30


TOM THUMB.


And but reserves ourselves for his bon bouche,
So when the boy, whom nurse from danger guards,
Sends Jack for mustard with a pack of cards,
Kings, queens, and knaves, tip one another down,
Till the whole pack lay scatter'd and o'erthrown.
Thus all our pack upon the floor is cast,
And my sole boast is, that I will die the last.
[Stabs himself in the back and lies down.
C. MERLIN rises. Thunder and Lightning.
MERLIN. Blood, what a scene of slaughter's here!
But I'll soon shift it, never fear.
Gallants, behold! one touch of Merlin's magic,
Shall to gay comic change this dismal tragic.
[Waves his wand.
The SCENE changes and discovers the Cow.
First at my word, thou horned cannibal,
Return again our England's Hannibal.
[THUMB is thrown out of the Cow's mouth,
and starts fiercely.
Next to you, King, Queen, Lords, and Commons,
I issue my hell-bilking summons.
[The dead all start up as MERLIN touches them.
-    Here ends jar,
Live, love, and all this will be right.
KING (to the QUEEN) One kind buss, my Dolly
Queen;
When we two last parted,
We scarce hoped to buss again;
My heart! Lord, how it smarted!








Return again our England's Hannibal.




TOM THUMB.


33


QUEEN. (to the KING) Dear KingAtty, pitty patty,
Mine too went a fleeting;
Now we in a nipperkin
May toast this merry meeting.  [Chorus.
TOM. (to HUNC.) Come my Hunky, come my pet,
Love's in haste, don't stay him;
Deep we are in hymen's debt,
And 'tis high time we pay him.
HUNC. (to TOM.) Have, dear Tommy,
Pity on me;
I'm by shame restricted!
Yet I obey,
So take your way,
I must not contradict it.     [Chorus.
R. Enter GRIZZLE and GLUMDALCA.
GRIZ. (to GLUM.) Grandest Glum, in my behoof,
To love's law be pliant;
Me you'll find a man of proof.
Although not quite a giant.
GLUM. (to GRIZ.) Indeed, Lord Griz,
Though for that phiz
Few amorous queens would choose you;
Yet thus bereft,
Not one chum left,
I think I can't refuse you.   [Chorus.
MERLIN. Now love and live, and live and love.


ALL. Sage Merlin's in the right on't:




TOM THUMB.


MIERLIN. Each couple prove like hand in glove!
ALL. Agreed.
QUEEN. 'Fore George, we'll make a night on't.
ALL.      Let discord cease,
Let all in peace
Go home and kiss their spouses;
Join hat and cap
In one loud clap,
And wish us crowded houses.....       -, 7


I
- ----  - 


(fii
I 1 -11.

Printed by J. Unwin, St. Peter's Alley, Cornhill.








~'.                                -,-1                                                1


-----.
get yu goe ou of my sight.-ACT 1. p. 23.




THE MAYOR OF GARRATTr:
A COMEDY, IN TWO ACTS,
By SAMUEL FOOTE;
AS PERFORMED AT THE THEATRES ROYAL,
ILLUSTRATED WITH ORIGINAL DESIGNS,
ZY 3EOD3R.T CR.U13KS'9IaWKl
ENGRAVED BY
-P. CRUIKSHANK, WAlKER, AND KIRCHNRH.
WITH INTRODUCTORY REMARKS,
LONDON:
JOSEPH THOMAS, FINCH       LANE, CORNHTLL,
SOLD BY SIMPKIN AND MARSHALL, STATIONERS' COURT.
1837.




I




TaE "MAYOR OF GARRATT" is founded on a custom
which existed until lately in the neighbourhood,of
Wandsworth, and which originated in consequence of
some encroachments having been made on the common, in that part which adjoins Garrett Lane. The
inhabitants of the hamlet of Garrett, situated about a
mile south of Wandsworth, formed themselves into a
society for the purpose of resisting such aggression,
and commenced and gained an action which was
brought in the name of the President, or, as they
called him, the " Mayor of Garrett." This occurring about the time of a general election, it was
agreed that the choice of a Mayor should take place
at the assembling of every successive Parliament;
and the ceremony being an amusing burlesque upon
popular elections, gradually gained for it a celebrity
which attracted great numbers from the metropolis
and surrounding neighbourhood, to share in its
humour and conviviality, which appear to have been
very great, but being also accompanied with considerable disorder and excess, the custom grew into
disrepute, and was finally abandoned about the end
of the last century. On the accession of George III
to the throne, in 1761, the election seems to have excited particular interest, and party spirit running very
high at the time, Foote, Wilkes, and Garrick, are
said to have written speeches for the various candidates. Foote paid nine guineas for an apartment at
Wandsworth, for the accommodation of himself and
friends, establishing therein a sort of committeeA3




REMARKS.


room, but it is not known which of the candidates
he favoured.
Foote always excelled more in hitting at existing
peculiarities than in dramatic invention; it is probable, therefore, that many of the characters in this
piece are sketched from the life. Major Sturgeon is
said to have been a retired fishmonger, named
Lamb, residing at Acton, who had been appointed to
a commission in the peace, as also to another in the
Middlesex militia, whose " amiable officers" the
Major describes as " quiet and peaceable as lambs;"
and as the piece was not produced until June 20,
1763, shortly after the termination of the seven
years' war, which returned a number of military
men into private life, Foote availed himself of an
opportunity of satirising the assumption, dissolute
habits, and affected gallantry which distinguished the
heroes of that period; as in a subsequent comedy,
" The Commissary," he holds up to ridicule their
ignorance, fashion of aping French manners, and
ridiculous mode of squandering the enormous sums
they had so atrociously acquired.
Foote warred with quacks of every description,
but more particularly with quack doctors; and as this
species is certainly not less flourishing now than in
the days of our author, we have retained in this
edition the scene between Sir Jacob Jollup and Lint,
as with a little adaptation to our own times, might,
we think, be judiciously done in the representation.
We have also for similar reasons retained the election scene, which is generally omitted. It is true
that its particular humour is passed; but surely it
requires but little skill to point, against the political
quacks of our day, that weapon, to which such men




REMARKS.
are most vulnerable,-the shaft of ridicule,-which,
wielded by a child, might annihilate the exaggerated
pretenders, each with his " universal medicine" to
cure all " the ills which states are heir to." Some.
thing like this has been attempted lately at St.
James's Theatre; but it is the manner only of the
arch quack of our time which has been copied.
Surely the man is absurd enough for a burlesque.
The " Mayor of Garratt" is the only comedy of
Foote which is now frequently played; and the
humour of even this, the most finished of our author's
productions, is scarcely sufficiently appreciated. Of
his other comedies, " The Liar," occasionally, and
" The Minor" still more rarely, have in modern
times been presented on the stage; from which,
however, the coarseness of the latter is likely, in
this our age of " filthiness and cant," to banish it
for ever.
Foote was the original Major Sturgeon. His most
famous successors in the part have been old Bannister (who revived the piece in 1794) and our own
inimitable Dowton, who embodies our idea of the
redoubtable Major in absolute perfection. Weston
was the original Jerry Sneak, and was deservedly
celebrated; but in Russell we have (or had) a representation of the character, any thing equal to which
we cannot conceive to have been ever exhibited on the
stage. The playgoers of London often ask, Where
is Russell-Jerry Sneak Russell?-Is the masque
broken, and does the Comic Muse no longer speak
through him her favoured son? Is he reposing on
his laurels, or do the provinces enjoy what the
metropolis has lost? The London Stage at present
can ill afford to lose so good an actor.  J. T.




Costume
MAJOR STURGEON.-Regimental suit of scarlet,
with flowered waistcoat, huge black boots, and gold-laced
cocked hat.
SIR JACOB JOLLUP.-Old English coat and waistcoat, black breeches, white stockings, and shoes.
JERRY SNEAK.-Crimson coat, fancy waistcoat to
contrast, black breeches, white stockings, and shoes.
BRUIN.-Coat, waistcoat, and breeches of the last
century.
MOB.-Rustic dresses, various.
SNUFFLE.-Black coat and breeches, flowered waistcoat, gray stockings, and shoes.
CRISPIN HEELTAP.-Jacket and cap, red plush
breeches.
MATTHEW MUG.-Jacket, small clothes, and apron;
worsted stockings, and shoes.
MRS. SNEAK.-Sarsnet gown, profusely trimmed with
ribbon of an opposite colour, silk scarf.
MRS. BRUIN.-Silk gown, and coloured scarf, also to
contrast.
STAGE DIRECTIONS.
R. means Right.-L. Left.-C. Centre.
The lines distinguished by inverted commas (") are
omitted in the representation.




THE MAYOR OF GARRATT.
ACT I.
SCENE-Sir Jacob Jollup's House at Garratt.
Enter SIR JACOB JOLLUP, R.
SIR J. Roger!
Enter ROGER, L.
ROGER. Anan, sir!
SIRJ. Sir, sirrah! and why not Sir Jacob, you
rascal? Is that all your manners? Has his majesty
dubbed me a knight for you to make me a mister?
Are the candidates near upon coming?
ROGER. Nic Goose, the tailor, from Putney, they
say, will be here in a crack, Sir Jacob.
SIR J. Has Margery fetched in the linen?
ROGER. Yes, Sir Jacob.
SIR J. Are the pigs and the poultry locked up in
the barn?
ROGER. Safe, Sir Jacob.
SIR J. And the plate and spoons in the pantry?
ROGER. Yes, Sir Jacob.
SIRJ. Then give me the key; the mob will soon
be upon us; all is fish that comes to their net. Has
Ralph laid the cloth in the hall?
ROGoR. Yes, Sir Jacob.




THE MAYOR OF GARRATT.


SIR J. Then let him bring out the turkey and
chine, and be sure there is plenty of mustard; and,
d'ye hear, Roger, do you stand yourself at the gate,
and be careful who you let in.
ROGER. I will, Sir Jacob.     [Exit ROGER, L.
SIR J. So, now I believe things are pretty secure.
But I can't think what makes my daughters so late
ere they — [A knocking at the gate.] Who is that,
Roger?
"ROGER. [Without.] Master Lint, the pottercarrier, Sir Jacob.
SIR J. Let him in. What the deuce can he want?
Enter LINT, L.
SIR J. Well, master Lint, your will?
LINT. Why, I come, Sir Jacob, partly to inquire
after your health; and partly, as I may say, to settle
the business of the day.
SIR J What business?
LINT. Your worship knoweth, this being the day
of election, the rabble may be riotous; in which case,
maims, bruises, contusions, dislocations, fractures
simple and compound, may likely ensue: now your
worship need not be told, that I am not only a pharmacopolist, or vender of drugs, but likewise chirurgeon, or healer of wounds.
SIRJ. True, Master Lint, and equally skilful in
both.
LINT. It is your worship's pleasure to say so, Sir
Jacob: is it your worship's will that I lend a
ministring hand to the maimed?
SIR J. By all means.
LINT. And to whom must I bring in my bill?




THE MAYOR OF GARRATT.


SIR J. Doubtless, the vestry.
LINT. Your worship knows, that, kill or cure, I
have contracted to physic the parish poor by the great
gross: but this must be a separate charge.
SIR J. No, no; all under one: come, Master
Lint, don't be unreasonable.
LINT. Indeed, Sir Jacob, I can hardly afford it.
What with the dearness of drugs, and the number of
patients the peace has procured me, I cannot get salt
to my porridge.
SIR J. Bad this year, better the next. We must
take things rough and smooth as they run.
LINT. Indeed I have d very hard bargain.
SIR J. No such matter: we are, neighbour Lint, a
little better instructed.  Formerly, indeed, a fit of
illness was very expensive; but now, physic is cheaper
than food.
LINT. Marry, heaven forbid!
SIR J. No, no; your essences, elixirs, emetics,
sweats, drops, and your pastes, and your pills, have
silenced your pestles and mortars. Why, a fever,
that would formerly have cost you a fortune, you may
now cure for twelve penn'orth of powder.
LINT. Or kill, Sir Jacob.
SIR J. And then, as to your scurvies, and gouts,
rheumatisms, consumptions, coughs, and catarrhs,
tar-water and turpentine will make you as sound as
a roach.
LINT. Nostrums!
SIR J. Specifics, specifics, Master Lint.
LINT. I am very sorry to find a man of your
worship's —  Sir Jacob, a promoter of puffs-an encourager of quacks, Sir Jacob?




THE MAYOR OF GARRATT.


SIRJ. Regulars, Lint, regulars; look at their
names. Roger, bring me the news: not a soul of
them but is either P. L. or M. D.
LINT. Plaguy Liars! Murderous Dogs!
Enter ROGER, L., bringing the newspaper.
SIR J. Liars!  Here, look at the list of their
cures. The oath of Margery Squab, of Ratcliff
Highway, spinster.
LINT. Perjuries!
SIRJ. And see here, the churchwardens have
signed it.
LINT. Fictitious, Sir Jacob.
SIR J. Sworn before the worshipful Mr. Justice
Drowsy, this thirteenth day of —
LINT. Forgery.
SIR J. Why, harkye, sirrah-do you think Mr.
Justice Drowsy would set his hand to a forgery?
LINT. I know, Sir Jacob, that woman; she has
been cured of fifty diseases in a fortnight, and every
one of 'em mortal.
SIR J. You impudent —
LINT. Of a dropsy, by West —
SIR J. Audacious
LINT. A cancer, by Cleland —
SIR J. ArrogantLINT. A palsy, by Walker —
SIR J. Impertinent —
LINT. Gout and sciatica, by RockSIR J. Insolent
LINT. Consumption, by Stevens's drops —
SIR J. Paltry
LINT. And squinting, by the Chevalier Taylor



THE MAYOR OF GARRATT.


SIR J. Pill-gilding puppy!
LINT. And as to the justice, so the affidavit brings
him a shilling —
SIR J. Why, harkye, rascal-how dare you abuse
the commission? You blood-letting, tooth-drawing,
corn-cutting, worm-killing, blistering, glisteringLINT. Bless me, Sir Jacob! I did not think toSiRJ. What, sirrah, do you insult me in my
office? Here, Roger, out with him-turn him out.
LINT. Sir, as I hope to beSIRJ. Away with him. You scoundrel, if my
clerk was within, I'd send you this instant to Bridewell. Things are come to a pretty pass, indeed, if
after all my reading in Wood, and Nelson, and Burn;
if after twenty years' attendance at turnpike-meetings, sessions petty and quarter; if after settling of
rates, licencing ale-houses, and committing of vagrants-But all respect to authority is lost, and Unus
Quorum tacked to a man's name, is no more regarded
now-a-days, than a petty constable. [Knocking.]
Roger, see who is at the gate. Why, the fellow is
deaf.                          [Exit ROGER, L."
ROGER. [Without.] Justice Sturgeon, the fishmonger, from Brentford.
SIR J. Gad's my life! and major to the Middlesex
militia. Usher him in, Roger.
Enter MAJOR STURGEON, L.
I could have wished you had come a little sooner,
Major Sturgeon.
4 MAJ. S. Why, what has been the matter, Sir
Jacob?
SIR J. There has, major, been here an impudent
B




THE MAYOR OF GARRATT.


pill-monger, who has dared to scandalize the whole
body of the bench.
MAJ. S. Insolent companion! Had I been here,
I would have mittimused the rascal at once.
SIRJ. No, no-he wanted the major more than
the magistrate: a few smart strokes from your cane
would have fully answered the purpose. Well, major,
our wars are done; the rattling drum and squeaking
fife now wound our ears no more.
MAJ. S. True, Sir Jacob, our corpse is disembodied;
so the French may sleep in security.
SIR J. But, major, was it not rather late in life for
you to enter upon the profession of arms?
MAJ. S. A little awkward in the beginning, Sir
Jacob: the great difficulty they had was to get me to
turn out my toes; but use, use reconciles all them
kind of things: why, after my first campaign, I no
more minded the noise of the guns than a flea-bite.
SIRJ. No!
MAJ. S. No. There is more made of these matters
than they merit. For the general good, indeed, I am
glad of the peace; but as to my single self — and?
yet, we have had some desperate duty, Sir Jacob.
SIR J. No doubt.
MAJ. S. Oh! such marchings and counter-marchings-from  Brentford to Ealing-from Ealing to
Acton-from Acton to Uxbridge; the dust flying, sun
scorching, men sweating! Why, there was our last
expedition to Hounslow; that day's work carried off
Major Molasses. Bunhill-Fields never saw a braver
commander!    He was an irreparable loss to the
service.
SitJ. How came that about?




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MAJ. S. The drums beat in thw front, the dogs barked in the rear, &c. &c.




THE MAYOR OF OARRATT.


17


MAJ. S. Why, it was partly the major's own fault:
I advised him to pull off his spurs before he went upon
action; but he was resolute, and would not be ruled.
SIR J. Spirit-zeal for the service.
MAJ. S. Doubtless. But to proceed: in order to
get our men in good spirits, we were quartered at
Isleworth the evening before.  At day-break our
regiment formed at Hounslow town's end, as it might
be about here, The major made a fine disposition:
on we marched, the men all in high spirits, to attack
the gibbet where Gardel is hanging; but, turning
down a narrow lane to the left, as it might be about
there, in order to possess a pig's-stye, that we might
take the gallows in flank, and at all events secure a
retreat, who should come by but a drove of fat oxen
for Smithfield. The drums beat in the front, the
dogs barked in the rear, the oxen set up a gallop; on
they came thundering upon us, broke through our
ranks in an instant, and threw the whole corps in
confusion.
SIR J. Terrible!
MAJ. S. The major's horse took to his heels; away
he scoured over the heath. That gallant commander
atuck both his spurs into the flank, and for some time
held by his mane; but, in crossing a ditch, the horse
threw up his head, gave the major a dowse in the
chops, and plumped him into a gravel-pit, just by the
powder-mills.
SIR J. Dreadful!
MAJ.S. Whether from the fall or the fright, the
major moved off in a month.  Indeed, it was an
unfortunate day for us all.
SIR J. As how?
B3




THE MAYOR OF GARRATT.


MAJ. S. Why, as captain Cucumber, lieutenant
Pattypan, ensign Tripe, and myself, were returning
to town in the Turnham-green stage, we were stopped
near the Hammersmith. turnpike, and robbed and
stripped by a footpad.
SIR J. An unfortunate day, indeed!
MAJ. S. But, in some measure to make me amends,
I got the major's commission.
SiR J. You did?
MAJ. S. O yes. I was the only one of the corps
that could ride; otherwise we always succeeded of
course; no jumping over heads, no underhand work
among us; all men of honour; and I must do the regiment the justice to say, there never was a set of
more amiable officers.
SIR J. Quiet and peaceable.
MAJ. S. As lambs, Sir Jacob. Excepting one
boxing bout, at the Three Compasses in Acton, between captain Sheers and the Colonel, concerning a
game at All-fours, I don't remember a single dispute.
SIR J. Why, that was mere mutiny; the captain
ought to have been broke.
MAJ. S. He was; for the Colonel not only took
awav his cockade, but his custom; and 1 don't think
poor captain Sheers has done a stitch for him since.
SIR J. But you soon supplied the loss of Molossas?
MAJ. S. In part only: no, Sir Jacob, he had great
experience; he was trained up to arms from his
youth; at sixteen, he trailed a pike in the Artilleryground; at eighteen, got a company in the Smithfield
pioneers; and by the time he was twenty, was made
aid-de-camp to Sir Jeffrey Grub, knight, alderman,
and colonel of the yellow.




THE MAYOR OF GARR&TT.


SIR J. A rapid rise!
MAJ. S. Yes, he had a genius for war; but what
I wanted in practice, I made up by doubling my diligence. Our porter at home had been a serjeant of
marines; so, after shop was shut up at night, he
used to teach me my exercise; and he had not to
deal with a dunce, Sir Jacob.
SIR J. Your progress was great!
MAJ. S. Amazing. In a week I could shoulder,
and rest, and poize, and turn to the right, and wheel
to the left; and in less than a month I could fire
without winking or blinking.
SIR J. A perfect Hannibal!
MAJ. S. Ah! and then I learnt to form lines, and
hollows, and squares, and evolutions, and revolutions.
Let me tell you, Sir Jacob, it was lucky that monsieur
kept his myrmidons at home, or we should have peppered his flat-bottomed boats.
SIR J. Ay, marry, he had a marvellous escape.
MAJ. S. We would a taught him what a Briton
can do, who is fighting pro arvis and focus.
SIR J. Pray now, major, which do you look upon
as the best disciplined troops-the London regiments,
or the Middlesex militia?
MAJ. S. Why, Sir Jacob, it does not become me
to say: but, lack-a-day, they have never seen any
service-Holiday soldiers!  Why, I don't believe,
unless indeed upon a lord-mayor's-day, and that mere
matter of accident, that they were ever wet to the
skin in their lives.
SIR J. Indeed!
MAJ. S. No! soldiers for sunshine, cockneys; they
have not the appearance, the air, the freedom, the




THE MAYOR OF GARRATT.


jenn sequi that-Oh, could you but see me salute!
You have never a spontoon in the house?
SIR J. No! but we could get you a shove-pike.
MAJ. S. No matter. Well, Sir Jacob, and how
are your fair daughters, sweet Mrs. Sneak, and the
lovely Mrs. Bruin; is she as lively and as brilliant as
ever?
SiR J. Oh, oh, now the murder is out; this visit
was intended for them: come, own now, major, did
not you expect to meet with them here? You officers are men of such gallantry.
MAJ. S. Why, we do tickle up the ladies, Sir
Jacob; there is no resisting a red coat.
Sir J. True, true, major.
MAJ. S. But that is now all over with me "Farewell to the plumed steeds and neighing troops," as
the black man says in the play; like the Roman censurer, I shall retire to my Savine field, and there
cultivate cabbages.
SIR J. Under the shade of your laurels.
MAJ. S. True. I have done with the major, and
now return to the magistrate;-Cedunt arma togge.
SIR J. Still in the service of your country.
MAJ. S. True; man was not made for himself;
and so, thinking that this would prove a busy day in
the justicing way, I am come, Sir Jacob, to lend you
a hand.
SIR J. Done like a neighbour.
MAJ. S. I have brought, as I suppose most of our
business will be in the battery way, some warrants
and mittimuses ready filled up, with all but the names
of the parties, in order to save time.
SIR J. A provident magistrate.




THE MAYOR OF GARRATT.


MAJ. S. Pray, how shall we manage as to the article of swearing; for I reckon we shall have oaths as
plenty as hops.
SIRJ. Why, with regard to that branch of our
business, to-day, I believe, the law must be suffered
to sleep.
MAJ. S. I should think we might pick up something that's pretty that way.
SIR J. No, poor rascals, they would not be able to
pay; and as to the stocks, we should never find room
for their legs.
MAJ. S. Pray, Sir Jacob, is Matthew Marrowbone,
the butcher of your town, living or dead?
SIR J. Living.
MAJ. S. And swears as much as he used?
SIK J. An altered man, major; not an oath comes
out of his mouth.
MAJ. S. You surprise me; why, when he frequented
our town of a market-day, he has taken out a guinea
in oaths-and quite changed?
SIR J. Entirely; they say his wife has made him
a methodist, and that he preaches at Kennington
Common.
MAJ. S. What a deal of mischief those rascals do
in the country-Why then we have entirely lost him?
SIR J. In that way; but I got a brace of bind-overs
from him last week for a couple of bastards.
MAJ. S. Well done, master Matthew-but pray
now, Sir Jacob —
[MOB, without, Huzza!
Re-enter ROGER, L.
SIR J. What's the matter now, Roger?




22


THE MAYOR OF GARRATT.


ROGER. The electors desire to know if your worship
has any body to recommend?
SIR J. By no means, let them be free in their choice;
I shan't interfere.
ROGER. And if your worship has any objection to
Crispin Heel-tap the cobler's being returning officer?
SIR J. None, provided the rascal can keep himself
sober. Is he there?
ROGER. Yes, Sir Jacob. Make way there; stand
further off from the gate; here is Madam Sneak in a
chaise, along with her husband.         E.it, L.
MAJ. S. 'Gad-so, you will permit me to convoy
her in?         [Exit Maj. L.-dancing affectedly.
SIR J. Now here is one of the evils of war. This
Sturgeon was as pains-taking a Billingsgate-broker
as any in the bills of mortality. But the fish is got
out of his element; the soldier has quite demolished
the citizen.
Enter MRS. SNEAK, L. handed by the MAJOR.
MRS. S. Dear Major, I demand a million of pardons. I have given you a profusion of trouble; but
my husband is such a goose-cap, that I can't get no
good out of him at home or abroad.- Jerry! Jerry
Sneak!-Your blessing, Sir Jacob.
SIR J. Daughter, you are welcome to Garratt.
MRS. S. Why, Jerry Sneak! I say.
Enter JEsaY SNEAK,L, with a band-box, a hoop petticoat
under his arm, and cardinal, &e. 4c,. fc. &8c.
SNEAK. Here, lovy.
MRS. S. Here, looby. There lay these things in
the hall; and then go and look after the horse. Are
you sure you have got all the things out of the chaise?




THE MAYOR OF GARRATT.


SNEAK. Yes, chuck.
MRS. S. Then give me my fan.-[Jerry drops the
things in searching his pocketfor thefan.]-Did ever
mortal see such a-I declare, I am quite ashamed to
be seen with him abroad; go, get you gone out of
my sight.
SNEAK. I go, lovy. Good day to my father-in-law.
SIR J. I am glad to see you, son Sneak: but where
is your brother Bruin and his wife?
SNEAK. He will be here anon, father Sir Jacob;
he did but just step into the Alley, to gather how
tickets were selling.
SIR J. Very well, son Sneak.   CExit Sneak, R.
MRS. S. Son! yes, and a pretty son you have
provided.
SIR J. I hope all for the best: why, what terrible
work there would have been, had you married such a
one as your sister; one house could never have contained you-Now, I thought this meek mateMRs. S. Meek! a mushroom! a milksop!
SIR J. Look ye, Molly, I have married you to a
man; take care you don't make him a monster.
[Exit Sir J. R.
MRS. S. Monster? Why, major, the fellow has no
more heart than a mouse. Had my kind stars indeed
allotted me a military man, I should, doubtless, have
deported myself in a beseemingly manner.
MAJ. S. Unquestionably, madam.
MRS. S. Nor would the major have found, had it
been my fortune to intermarry with him, that Molly
Jollup would have dishonoured his cloth.
MAJ. S. I should have been too happy.
MRS. S. Indeed, Sir, I reverence the army; they




24


THE MAYOR OF GARRATT.


are all so brave, so polite, so every thing a woman
can wish.
MAJ. S. Oh! madam —
MRS. S. So elegant, so genteel, so obliging: and
then the rank; why, who would dare to affront the
wife of a major?
MAJ. S. No man with impunity; that I take the
freedom to say, madam.
MRS. S. I know it, good Sir. Oh! I am no stran —
ger to what I have missed.
MAJ. S. Oh, madam!-Let me die, but she has~
infinite merit.                          [aside..
MRs. S. Then to be joined to a sneaking slovenly
cit; a paltry, prying, pitiful, pin-maker.
MAJ. S. Melancholy!
MRS. S. To be jostled and crammed with the crowd;
no respect, no place, no precedence; to be choked
with the smoke of the city; no country jaunts but to,
Islington; no balls but at Pewterers'-hall.
MAJ. S. Intolerable!
MRS. S. I see, Sir, you have a proper sense of my
sufferings.
MAJ. S. And would shed my best blood to relievethem.
MRS. S. Gallant gentleman!
MAJ. S. The brave must favour the fair.
MRS. S. Intrepid major!
MAJ. S. Divine Mrs. Sneak!
MRS. S. Obliging commander!
MAJ. S. Might I be permitted the honour —
MRS. S. Sir!MAJ. S. Just to ravish a kiss from your hand?
MRS. S. You have a right to all we can grants




C




_                                                                                                       7:3


MAJ. S. Courteous, condescending, complying~ —
Hum —. Ha! I                                      Enter Jerry Sneak.




THE MAYOR OF GARRATT.


27


MAJ. S. Courteous, condescending, complyingHum —Ha!                        [Kisses her hand.
Re-enter JERRY SNEAK, R.
SNEAK. Chuck, my brother and sister Bruin are
just turning the corner; the Clapham stage was quite
full, and so they came by water.
MRs. S. I wish they had all bean soused in the
Thames. —A prying, impertinent puppy!   [Aside.
MAJ. S. Next time I will clap a sentinel to secure
the door.                                [Aside.
MRs. S. Major Sturgeon, permit me to withdraw
for a moment: my dress demands a little repair.
MAJ. S. Your ladyship's most entirely devoted.
Mrs. S. Ladyship?   He is the very Broglio -and
Belleisle of the army?
SNEAK. Shall I wait upon you, dove?
MRS. S. No, dolt; what, would you leave the
major alone? Is that your manners, you mongrel?
MAJ. S. Oh, madam, I can never be alone; your
sweet idera will be my constant companion.
MRs. S. Mark that. I am sorry, Sir, I am obligated to leave you.
MAJ. S. Madam —
MRS. S. Especially with such a wretched comr
panion.
MAJ. S. Oh, madam —
MRS. S. But as soon as my dress is restored, I
shall fly to relieve your distress.
MAJ. S. For that moment I shall wait with the
greatest impatience.
MRs. S. Courteous commander!
MAJ. S. Barragon of women!
c2




THE MAYOR OF GARRATT.


MRs. S. Adieu!
MAJ. S. Adieu!           [Exit Mrs. Sneak, R.
SNEAK. Notwithstanding, Sir, all my chicken has
said, I am special company when she is not by.
MAJ. S. I doubt not, master Sneak.
SNEAK. If you would but come one Thursday night
to our club, at the Nag's-Head, in the Poultry, you
would meet some roaring, rare boys, i'faith. There's
Jemmy Perkins, the packer; little Tom Simkins, the
grocer: honest master Muzzle, the midwife —
MAJ. S. A goodly company!
SNEAK. Ay, and then sometimes we have the choice
spirits from Comus's Court, and we crack jokes, and
are so jolly and funny. I have learnt myself to sing
"'An old woman clothed in grey." But I durst not
sing out loud, because my wife would overhear me;
and she says as how I bawl worser than the broomman.
rA song is here usually introduced which is generally
named instead of "An old woman clothed in grey."]
MAJ. S. And you must not think of disobliging
your lady,
SNEAK. I never does. I never contradicts her,
not I.
MAJ. S. That's right; she is a woman of infinite
merit.
SNEAK. 0, a power! and don't you think she is
very pretty withal?
MAJ. S. A Venus!
SNEAK. Yes, werry like Wenus-mayhap you have
known her some time?
MAJ, S. Long.




THE MAYOR OF GARRATT.


29


SNEAK. Belike, before she was married?
MAJ. S. I did, master Sneak.
SNEAK. Ay, when she was a wirgin.  I thought
you was an old acquaintance, by your kissing her
hand; for we ben't quite so familiar as that-but then,
indeed, we han't been married a year.
MAJ. S. The mere honey-moon.
SNEAK. Ay, ay, I suppose we shall come to it by
degrees.
BRUIN. [without.] Come along, Jane; why you
are as pursy and lazy, you jade —
Enter BRUIN and WIFE, L; Bruin with a cotton cap on;
his wife with his wig, great-coat, andfishing-rod.
BRUIN. Come, Jane, give me my wig; you slut
how you have tousled the curls! Master Sneak, a
good morning to you. Sir, I am your humble servant, unknown.
Enter ROGER, R.
RoGER. Mrs. Sneak begs to speak with the major.
MAJ. S. I will wait on the lady immediately.
SNEAK. Don't tarry an instant; you can't think
how impatient she is. [Exit Major Siok, R.] A good
morrow to you, brother Bruin; you have had a warm
walk across the fields.
MRS. B. Good lord, I am all in a muckBRUIN. And who may you thank for it, hussy? If
you had got up time enough, you might have secured
the stage; but you are a lazy lie-a-bed.
MRS. B. There's Mr. Sneak keeps my sister a chay.
BRUIN. And so he may; but I know better what
to do with my money: indeed if the war had but conc 3




THE MAYOR OF GARRATT.


tinued awhile, I don't know what mought ha' been
done; but this plaguy peace, with a pox to't, has
knocked up all the trade of the Alley.
MRS. B. For the matter of that, we can afford it
well enough as it is.
BRUIN. And how do you know that?   Who told
you as much, Mrs. Mixen? I hope I know the world
better than to trust my concerns with a wife: no, no,
thank you for that, Mrs. Jane.
MRS. B. And praywho is morefitterer to be trusted?
BRUIN. Hey-day! Why the wench is bewitched.
Come, come, let's have none of your palaver hereTake twelve-pence and pay the waterman.  But first
see if he has broke none of the pipes-and, d'ye hear,
Jane, be sure to lay the fishing-rod safe. [ExitMrs.B.L.
SNEAK. Ods me, how finely she's managed! what
would I give to have my wife as much under!
BRUIN. It is all your own fault, brother Sneak.
SNEAK. D'ye think so?-She is a sweet pretty
creature.
BRtIuN. A vixen.
SNEAK. Why, to say the truth, she does now and
then hector a little; and, between ourselves, domineers like the devil: 0 Lord, I lead the life of a dog:
why she allows me but two shillings a week for my
pocket.
BRUIN. No!
SNEAK. No, man; 'tis she that receives and pays
all: and then I am forced to trot after her to church,
with her cardinal, pattens, and prayer-book, for all
the world as if I was still a 'prentice.
BRUIN. Zounds! I would souse them all in the
kennel.




THE MAYOR OF GARRATT.


SNEAK. I durst not.-And then at table, I never
gets what I loves.
BRUIN. The devil!
SNEAK. No; she always helps me herself to the
tough drumsticks of turkeys, and the damnned fat flaps
of shoulders of mutton; I don't think I have eat a bit
of under-crust since we have been married: you see,
brother Bruin, I am almost as thin as a lath.
BRUIN. An absolute skeleton!
SNEAK. Now, if you think I could carry my point,
I would so swinge and leather my lambkin; God. I
woald so curry and claw her.
BRUIN. By the lord Harry, she richly deserves it.
SNEAK. Will you, brother, lend me a lift?
BRUIN. Command me at all times.
SNEAK. Why then, I will verily pluck up a spirit;
and the first time she offers toMRS. S. [without.] Jerry! Jerry Sneak!
SNEAK. Gad's my life, sure as a gun that's her
voice: look-ye, brother, I don't chuse to breed a disturbance in another body's house; but as soon as ever
I get homeBRUIN. Now is your time.
SNEAK. No, no; it would not be decent.
MRS. S. [without.] Jerry! Jerry!
SNEAK. I come, lovy. But you will be sure to
stand by me?
BRUIN. Trot, nincompoop.
SNEAK. Well, if I don't, I wishMas. S. [without.] Where is this lazy puppy aloitering?
SNEAK. I come, chuck, as fast as I can-Good
Lord, what a sad life do I lead!  [Exit Sneak, R.




32


3  THE MAYOR OF GARRATT.


BRUIN. Ex quovis linguo: who can make a silk
purse of a sow's ear?
Enter SIR JACOB, R.
SIR J. Come, son Bruin, we are all seated at table,
man; we have but just time for a sack: the candidates are near upon coming.
BRUIN. A poor, paltry, mean-spirited-Damn it,
before I would submit to such a —
SIR J. Come, come, man; don't be so crusty.
BRUIN. I follow, Sir Jacob.-Damme, when once
a man gives up his prerogative, he might as well give
up-but, however, it is no bread and butter of mine.
-Jerry, Jerry!-    Zounds, I would Jerry and jerk
her too.                              [Exeunt R.


END OF THE FIRST ACT.




TIHE MAYORl OF GARRATT.


33


ACT II.
Scene as before.
SIR JACOB, MAJOR STURGEON, MK. tnd MRS. BRUIN,
MR. and MRS. SNKAK, discovered.
MRS. S. Indeed, major, not a grain of curiosity!
Can it be thought that we, who have a lord-mayor-s,
show every year, can take any pleasure in this?
MAJ. S. In time of war, madam, these meetings
are not amiss; I fancy a man might pick up a good
many recruits: but in these piping times of peace, I
wonder Sir Jacob permits it.
SIR J. It would, major, cost me my popularity to
quash it. The common people are as fond of their
customs as the barons were of their Magna Charta.
Besides, my tenants make some little advantage.
Enter ROGER.
ROGER. Crispin Heel-tap, with the electors, are
set out from the Adam and Eve.
SIR J. Gad-so, then they will soon be upon us.
Come, good folks, the balcony will give us the best
view of the whole. Major, you will take the ladies
under protection.
MAJ. S. Sir Jacob, I am upon guard.
Sir J. I can tell you, this Heel-tap is an arch
rascal.SNEAK. And plays the best game at cribbage inthe
whole corporation of Garratt.
MRS. S. That puppy will always be a-chattering.
SNEAK. Nay, I did but



34       THE MAYOR OF GARRATT.


MRS. S. Hold your tongue, or I'll send you home
in an instantSIR J. Pr'ythee, daughter! - You may to-day,
major, meet with something that will put you in mind
of more important transactions.
MAJ. S. Perhaps so.
Sit J. Lack-a-day, all men are alike; their principles exactly the same; for though art and education may disguise or polish the manners, the same
motives and springs are universally planted.
MAJ. S. Indeed!
SIR J. Why, in this mob, this group of plebeians,
you will meet with materials to make a Sylla, a
Cicero, a Solon, or a Caesar: let them but change
conditions, and the world's great lord had been but
the best wrestler on the green.
MAJ. S. Ay, ay, I could have told these things
formerly; but since I have been in the army, I have
entirely neglected the classics.
[Mob, without, Huzza!
SIR J. But the heroes are at hand, major.
SNEAK. Father sir Jacob, might not we have a
tankard of stingo above?
SIR J. By all means.
SNBAK. D'ye hear, Roger.
[Exeunt into the balcony.




THE MAYOR OF GARRATT.


35


SCENE, a Street, before Sir Jacob's garden wall, on
which are seen Sir Jacob Jollup, Major Sturgeon,
Bruin, Mrs. Bruin, Jerry Sneak, and Mrs. Sneak.
Enter MOB, L., with HEEL-TAP at their head; some
crying " a Goose;" others " a Mug;" others " a
Primmer."
HEEL. Silence, there; silence!
1st MOB. Hear neighbour Heel-tap.
2d MOB. Ay, ay, hear Crispin.
3d MOB. Ay, ay, hear him, hear Crispin: he will
put us into the model of the thing at once.
HEEL. Why then, silence! I say.
ALL. Silence!
HEEL. Silence, and let us proceed, neighbours.
with all the decency and confusion usual upon these
occasions.
1st MOB. Ay, ay, there is no doing without that.
ALL. No, no, no.
HEEL. Silence, then, and keep the peace: what,
is there no respect paid to authority? am not I the
returning officer?
ALL. Ay, ay, ay.
HEEL. Chosen by yourselves, and approved of by
sir Jacob?
ALL. True, true.
HEEL. Well, then, be silent and civil; stand back
there, that gentleman without a shirt, and make
room for your betters; where's Simon Snuffle, the
sexton?
SNUFFLE. Here.
HEEL. Let him come forward; we appoint him our




36       THE MAYOR OF GARRATT.


secretary; for Simon is a scollard, and can read written hand; and so let him be respected accordingly.
3d MOB. Room for master Snuffle.
HEEL. Here, stand by me: and let us, neighbours,
proceed to open the premunire of the thing: but
first, your reverence to the lord of the manor: a
long life and a merry one to our landlord sir Jacob!
huzza!
MOB. Huzza!
SNEAK. HOW fares it, honest Crispin?
HEEL. Servant, master Sneak. Let us now open
the premunire of the thing, which I shall do briefly,
with all the loquacity possible; that is, in a medium
way: which, that we may the better do it, let the
secretary read the names of the candidates, and what
they say for themselves; and then we shall know
what to say of them. Master Snuffle, begin.
SNUFFLE. (Reads.) " To the worthy inhabitants
of the ancient corporation of Garratt: Gentlemen,
your votes and interest are humbly requested in
favour of Timothy Goose, to succeed your late worthy mayor, Mr. Richard Dripping, in the said office,
he being"HEEL. This Goose is but a kind of gosling, a sort
of sneaking scoundrel: who is he?
SNUFFLE. A journeyman tailor, from Putney.
HEEL. A journeyman tailor! A rascal, has he the
impudence to transpire to be mayor? D'ye consider,
neighbours. the weight of this office? Why, it is a
burthen for the back of a porter; and can you think
that this cross-legged cabbage-eating son of a cucumber, this whey-faced ninny, who is but the ninth
part of a man, has strength to support it.




THE MAYOR OF GARRATT.


37


1st MOB. No Goose! no Goose!
2d MOB. A Goose!
HEEL. Hold your hissing, and proceed to the next.
SNUFFLE. (Reads.) " Your votes are desired for
Matthew Mug."
1st MOB. A Mug! A Mug!
HEEL. Oh, oh! what, you are all ready to have a
touch of the tankard: but, fair and soft, good neighbours, let us taste this master Mug, before we swallow him; and unless I am mistaken, you will find
him a damn'd bitter draught.
1st MOB. A Mug! A Mug!
2d MOB. Hear him; hear master Heel-tap.
HEEL. Harkye, you fellow, with your mouth full
of Mug, let me ask you a question; bring him for.
ward; pray, is not this Matthew Mug a victualler
3d MOB. I believe he may.
HEEL. And lives at the sign of the Adam and Eve.
3d MOB. I believe he may.
HEEL. Now answer me upon your honour, and as
you are a gentleman, what is the present price of a
quart of home-brewed at the Adam and Eve?
3d MOB. I don't know.
HEEL. You lie, sirrah; an't it a groat?
3d MOB. I believe it may.
HEEL. Oh, may be so: now, neighbours, here's a
pretty rascal; this same Mug, because, d'ye see,
state-affairs would not jog glibly without laying a
farthing a quart upon ale; this scoundrel, not contented to take things in a medium way, has had the
impudence to raise it a penny.
MOB. No Mug! no Mug!
HEEL. So, I thought I should crack Mr. Mug.
Come, proceed to the next, Simon.
D




38       THE MAVOR OF GARRATT.


SNUFFLE. The next upon the list is Peter Primmer,
the schoolmaster.
HEEL. Ay, neighbours, and a sufficient man; let
me tell you, master Primmer is the man for my money: a man of learning; that can lay down the law;
why, adzooks, he is wise enough to puzzle the parson: and then, how you have heard him oration at
the Adam and Eve of a Saturday night, about Russia
and Prussia; ecod, George Gage, the exciseman, is
nothing at all to un.
4th MOB. A Primmer!
HEEL. Ay, if the folks above did but know himwhy, lads, he will make us all statesmen in time.
2d MOB. Indeed!
HEEL. Why, he swears as how all the miscarriages
are owing to the great people's not learning to read.
3d MOB. Indeed!
HEEL. For, says Peter, says he, if they would but
once submit to be learned by me, there's no knowing
to what a pitch the nation might rise.
1st MOB. Ay, I wish they would.
SNEAK. Crispin,what is Peter Primmer a candidate?
HEEL. He is, master Sneak.
SNEAK. Lord, I know him, mun, as well as my
mother: why, I used to go to his lectures to Pewterers-hall, 'long with deputy Firkin.
HEEL. Like enough.
Sneak. Odds-me, brother Bruin, can you tell what's
become of my vife?
BRUIN. She's gone off with the major.
SNEAK. Mayhap to take a walk in the garden; I
will go and take a peep at what they're doing.
[Exit Sneak, from the wall.




THE MAYOR OF GARRATT.


39


MOB, without, Huzza.
HEEL. Gad-so, the candidates are coming. Come,
neighbours, range yourselves to the right and left,
that you may he canvassed in order. Let us see who
comes first.
1st MOB. Master Mug.
HEEL. Now, neighbours, have a caution that this
master Mug does not cajole you; he's a damn'd palavering fellow.
Enter MATTHEW MUG, L.
"MUG. Gentlemen, I am the lowest of your slaves.
Mr. Heel-tap, have the honour of kissing your hand.
HEEL. There, did not I tell you?
MuG. Ah, my very good friend, I hope your father
is well.
1st MOB. He's dead.
MUG. So he is. Mr. Grub, if my wishes prevail,
your very good wife is in health.
2d MOB. Wife! I never was married.
MUG. No more you were. Well, neighbours and
friends-Ah! what, honest Dick Bennet.
3d MOB. My name is Gregory Gubbins.
MUG. You are right, it is so: and how fares it
with good master Gubbins?
3d MOB. Pretty tight, master Mug.
MUG. I am exceedingly happy to hear it.
4th MOB. Harkye, master Mug.
MUG. Your pleasure, my very dear friend?
4th MOB. Why, as how and concerning our young
one at home.
MUG. Right; she is a prodigious promising girl.
4th MOB. Girl! Zooks, why 'tis a boy.
Muo. True; a fine boy! I love and honour the child.
D2




THE MAYOR OF GARRATT.


4th MOB. Nay, 'tis none such a child; but you
promised to get un a place.
MUG. A place! what place?
4th MOB. Why, a gentleman's service, you know.
Muo. It is done; it is fixed; it is settled.
4th MOB. And when is the lad to take on?
MUG. He must go in a fortnight at farthest.
4th MOB. And is it a pretty goodish birth, master
Mug?
MUG. The best in the world; head butler to Lady
Barbara Bounce.
4th MOB. A lady!
MUG. The wages are not much, but the vails are
amazing.
4th Moli. Barbara Bunch?
MUG. Yes; she has routs on Tuesdays and Sundays,
and he gathers the tables; only he finds candles,
cards, coffee, and tea.
4th MOB. Is Lady Barbara's work pretty light?
MUG. As good as a sinecure; he only writes cards
to her company, and dresses his mistress's hair.
4th MOB. Hair! Zounds, why Jack was bred to
dressing of horses.
MUG. True; but he is suffered to do that by deputy.
4th MOB. May be so.
MUG. It is so. Harkye, dear Heel-tap, who is
this fellow? I should remember his face.
HEEL. And don't you?
MUG. Not I, 1 profess.
HEEL. No!
MUG. No.
HEEL. Well said, master Mug;-but come, time
wears-have you any thing more to say to the cor,
poration?




THE MAYOR OF GARRATT.


MUG. Gentlemen of the corporation of GarrattHEEL. Now, twig him; now, mind him: mark
how he hawls his muscles about.
Muv. The honour I this day solicit, will be to me
the most honourable honour that can be conferred;
and, should I succeed, you, gentlemen, may depend
on my using my utmost endeavours to promote the
good of the borough; to which purpose, the encouragement of your trade and manufactories will most
principally tend. Garratt, it. must be owned, is an
inland town, and has not, like Wandsworth, and
Fulham, and Putney, the glorious advantage of a
port; but what nature has denied, industry may supply: cabbages, carrots, and colly-flowers, may be
deemed, at present, your staple commodities; but
why should not your commerce be extended? Were
I, gentlemen, worthy to advise, I should recommend
the opening a new branch of trade; sparagrass, gentlemen, the manufacturing of sparagrass: Battersea,
I own, gentlemen, bears, at present, the belle; but
where lies the fault? In ourselves, gentlemen: let
us, gentlemen, but exert our natural strength, and I
will take upon me to say, that a hundred of grass from
the corporation of Garratt, will in a short time, at
the London market, be held, at least, as an equivalent to a Battersea bundle.
MOB. A Mug! a Mug!
HEEL. Damn the fellow, what a tongue he has.
God, I must step in, or he will carry the day.
Harkee, master Mug!
MUG. Your pleasure, my very good friend?
HEEL. No flummering me: I tell thee, Matthew,
'twont do: why, as to this article of ale here, how
comes it about that you have raised it a penny a quart,.




42       THE MAYOR OF GARRATT.


MuG. A word in your ear, Crispin; you and your
friends shall have it at three pence.
HEEL. What, sirrah, d'ye offer a bribe!-d'ye dare
to corrupt me, you scoundrel!
MUG. GentlemenHEEL. Here, neighbours, the fellow has offered to
bate a penny a quart, if so be as how I would be consenting to impose upon you.
MOB. No Mug! no Mug!
MUG. Neighbours, friends ---
MOB. No Mug!
MUG. I believe this is the first borough that ever
was lost by the returning officer's refusing a bribe.
[Exit Mug, R.
2d MOB. Let us go and pull down his sign."
HEEL. Hold, hold, no riot! but that we may not
give Mug time to pervert the votes and carry the
day, let us proceed to the election.
MOB. Agreed, agreed! [Exit Heel-tap and Mob, L.
Re-enter SIR JACOB, BRUIN, and Wife, coming from the
garden gate, L.
SIR J. Well, son Bruin, how d'ye relish the corporation of Garratt?
BRUIN. Why, lookye, Sir Jacob, my way is always
to speak what I think: I don't approve on't at all.
MRS. B. No!
SIR J. And what's your objection?
BRUIN. Why, I was never over-fond of your Maygames: besides, corporations are too serious things;
they are edge-tools, Sir Jacob.
SIR J. That they are frequently tools, I can readily grant; but I never heard much of their edge.
MRS. B. Well, now, I protest, I am pleased with
it mightily.




THE MAYOR OF GARRATT.


43


BRUIN. And who the devil doubts it?-YQu women folks are easily pleased.
MRS. B. Well, I like it so well, that I hope to see
one every year.
BRUIN. Do you? Why then you will be damnably
bit; you may take your leave, I can tell you, for this
is the last you shall see.
SIR J. Fye, Mr. Bruin, how can you be such a
bear; is that a manner of treating your wife?
BRUIN. What, I suppose you would have me such
a snivelling sot as your son-in-law Sneak, to truckle
and cringe, to fetch and to —
Enter SNEAK, in a violent hurry, from the garden
gate, L., crying.
SNEAK. Where's brother Bruin? 0 Lord! brother, I have such a dismal story to tell youBRUIN. What's the matter?
SNEAK. Why, you know I went into the garden to look for my vife and the major, and there I
hunted and hunted as sharp as if it had been for one
of my own minnikins; but the deuce a major or madam could I see: at last, a thought came into my
head to look for them up in the summer-house.
BRUIN. And there you found them?
SNEAK. I'll tell you, the door was locked; and
then I looked through the key-hole; and, there, Lord
a mercy upon us! [whispers] as sure as a gun.
BRUIN. Indeed! Zounds, why did not you break
open the door?
SNEAK. I durst not: what, would you have me
set my wit to a soldier? I warrant, the major would
have knocked me down with one of his boots; for I
could see they were both of them off.




44


THE MAYOR OF GARRATT.


BRUIN. Very well! Pretty doings! You see, sir
Jacob, these are the fruits of indulgence; you may
call me bear, but your daughter shall never make me
a beast.                          [MoB huzzas.
SIRJ. Hey-day! What, is the election over already?
Enter CRISPIN, &C. L.
HEEL. Where is master Sneak?
SNEAK. Here, Crispin.
HEEL. The ancient corporation of Garratt, in consideration of your great parts and abilities, and out of
respect to their landlord, Sir Jacob, have unanimously
chosen you mayor.
SNEAK. Me! huzza! good Lord, who would have
thought it: but how came master Primmer to lose it?
HEEL. Why, Phill Fleam had told the electors, that
master Primmer was an Irishman; and so they would
none of them give their vote for a foreigner.
SNEAK. So then, I have it for certain: huzza!
Now, brother Bruin, you shall see how I'll manage
my madam. Gad, I'll make her know I am a man
of authority; she shan't think to bullock and domineer over me.
BRUIN. Now for it, Sneak; the enemy's at hand.
SNEAK. You promise to stand by me, brother Bruin.
BRUIN. Tooth and nail.
SNEAK. Then now for it; I am ready, let her come
when she will.
Enter MRS. SNEAK from the garden gate.
MRs. S. Where is the puppy?
SNEAK. Yes, yes, she is axing for me.
MRS. S. So, sot; what, is this true that I hear?
SNEAK. May be 'tis, may be tan't: I don't choose
to trust my affairs with a voman. Is that right, brother Bruin?                            [Aside.




=  -'
z lI

4


r.


SNEAK. Me! huzza! good Lord, who  ould have thought it.
SNEAK. Me! huzza! good Lord, wh o would have thought it.




s




THE MAYOR OF OARRATT.


47


BRUIN. Fine! don't bate her an inch.  [Aside.
SNEAK. Stand by me.                   [Aside.
Mns. S. Hey-day! I am amazed! Why, what is
the meaning of this?
SNEAK. The meaning is plain, that I am grown a
man, and vil do what I please, without being accountable to nobody.
[At the commencement of this and following speeches
addressed to his wife, Sneak advances towards her,
but at the end of each retreats to Bruin.]
MRS. S. Why, the fellow is surely bewitched.
SNEAK. No, I am unwitched, and that you shall
know to your cost; and since you provoke me, I will
tell you a bit of my mind; what, I am the husband,
I hope?
BRUIN. That's right: at her again.   [Aside.
SNEAK. Yes; and you shan't think to hector and
domineer over me as you have done; for I'll go to
the club when I please, and stay out as late as I list,
and row in a boat to Putney on Sundays, and wisit
my friends at Vitsuntide, and keep the key of the till,
and help myself at table to vhat wittles I like; and
I'll have a bit of the brown,
BRUIN. Bravo, brother Sneak, the day's your own.
[Aside.
SNEAK. An't it? vhy, I did not think it vas in me,
Shall I tell her all I know?           [Aside.
BRUIN. Every thing. You see she is struck dumb.
SNEAK. As an oyster. [Aside.] Besides, madam, I
have something further to tell you: 'ecod, if some
folks go into gardens with majors, mayhap other
people may go into garrets with maids. There, I
gave it her home, brother Bruin.        [Aside.




48


THE MAYOR OF GARRATT.


MRS. S. Why, doodle! jackanapes! harkye, who
am I?
SNEAK. Come, don't go to call names. Am I?
vhy, my vife, and I am your master.
MRS. S. My master! you paltry, puddling puppy!
you sneaking, shabby, scrubby, snivelling whelp!
SNEAK. Brother Bruin, don't let her come near
me.                                    [Aside.
MRS. S. Have I, sirrah, demeaned myself to wed
such a thing, such a reptile as thee? Have I not
made myself a by-word to all my acquaintance?
Don't all the world cry, Lord, who would have
thought it? Miss Molly Jollup to be married to
Sneak; to take up at last with such a noodle as he!
SNEAK. Ay, and glad enough you could catch me!
you know you were pretty near your last legs.
MRS. S. Was there ever such a confident cur? My
last legs! Why, all the country knows I could have
picked and choosed where I would. Did not I refuse
squire Ap-Griffith from Wales? Did not counsellor
Crab come a courting a twelvemonth? Did not Mr.
Wort, the great brewer of Brentford, make an offer
that I should keep my post-chay?
SNEAK. Nay, brother Bruin, she has had werry
good proffers, that is certain.        [Aside.
MRS. S. My last legs!-but I can rein my passion
no longer; let me get at the villain.
BRUIN. O fie, sister Sneak.     [Holding her.
SNEAK. Hold her fast.                [Aside.
MRS. S. Mr. Bruin, unhand me: what, is it you
that have stirred up these coals then? He is set on
by you to abuse me.
BRUIN. Not I; I would only have a man behave
like a man.




THE1 MAYOR OF GARRATT.


49


MRS. S. What, and you are to teach him, I warrant-But here comes the major.
Enter MAJOR STURGEON, from the garden-gate.
Oh, major! such a riot and rumpus! Like a man,
indeed! I wish people would mind their own affairs,
and not meddle with matters that does not concern
them: —but all in good time; I shall one day catch
him alone, when he has not his bullies to back him.
SNEAK. Adod, that's true, brother Bruin: what
shall I do when she has me at home, and nobody by
but ourselves?
BRUIN. If you get her once under, you may do
with her whatever you will.
MAJ. S. Lookye, master Bruin [Advancing], I
don't know how this behaviour may suit with a citi
zen; but were you an officer, and Major Sturgeon
upon your court-martialBRUIN. What then?
MAJ. S. Then! why then you would be iloke.
[Retreats.
BRUIN. Broke! and for what!
MAJ. S. What! read the articles of war. But
these things are out of your spear: points of honour
are for the sons of the sword.
SNEAK. Honour! if you come to that, where was
your honour when you got my vife in the garden?
MAJ. S Now, Sir Jacob, this is the curse of our
cloth!-all suspected for the faults of a few.
SNEAK. Ay, and not without reason; I heard of
your tricks at the King of Bohemy, when you was
campaigning about, I did. Father Sir Jacob, he is as
wicious as an old ram.




THE MAYOR OF GARRATT.


MAJ. S. Stop whilst you are safe, Master Sneak:
for the sake of your amiable lady, I pardon what is
past, But for you-                   [To BRUIN.
BRUIN. Well.
MAJ. S. Dread the whole force of my fury.
BRUIN. Why, lookye, Major Sturgeon-I don't
much care for your poppers and sharps, because why,
they are out of my way: but if you will doff your
boots, and box a couple of bouts —
[BRUIN and JERRY strip.
MAJ. S. Box! box! Blades! bullets! bagshot!
MRS. S. Not for the world, my dear major-oh!
risk not so precious a life. Ungrateful wretches! and
is this the reward for all the great feats he has done?
After all his marchings, his sousings, his sweatings,
his swimmings-must his dear blood be spilt by a
broker?
MAJ. S. Be satisfied, sweet Mrs. Sneak; these
little fracases we soldiers are subject to; trifles, bagatailes, Mrs. Sneak. But that matters may be conducted in a military manner, I will get our chaplain
to pen me a challenge. Expect to hear from my
adjutant.
[During this speech, SNEAK puts on BRUIN'S coat;
BRUIN,in a rage, strives toput on SNEAK'S, but tears
it, discovers the mistake, and each puts on his own.
MRS. S. Major! Sir Jacob! What, are you all
leagued against his dear --?  A man! yes-a
very manly action indeed, to set married people a
quarrelling, and ferment a difference between husband and wife: if you were a man, you would not
stand by and see a poor woman beat and abused by a
brute-you would not.
SNEAK. Oh, lord, I can hold out no longer! Why,








N- =-      I -        --
zEff ---,, -  -1 I
- — 17. Ii; -  -,

-.-~


MAJ. S. Expect to hear from my adjutant.




THE MAYOI OF GARRATT.


53


brother Bruin, you have set her a veeping. My life,
my loyv, don't veep: did I ever think I should have
made my Molly to veep?     [Going up to his wife.
MRS. S. Last legs! you lubberly-  [Strikes him.
SIR J. Oh, fie, Molly!
MRs.S. What, are you leagued against me, sirJacob?
SIR J. Pr'ythee, don't expose yourself before the
whole parish. But what has been the occasion of this?
Mrs. S. Why, has he not gone and made himself
the fool of the fair? Mayor of Garratt, indeed! 'ecod,
I could trample him under my feet.
SNEAK. Nay, why should you grudge me my purfarment?
MRS. S. Did you ever hear such an oaf? Why,
thee will be pointed at wherever thee goest. Lookye,
Jerry, mind what I say; go get 'em to choose somebody else, or never come near.me again.
SNEAK. What shall I do, father sir Jacob?
SIR J. Nay, daughter, you take this thing in too
serious a light; my honest neighbours thought to
compliment me: but come, we'll settle the business
at once. Neighbours, my son Sneak being seldom
amongst us, the duty will never be done; so we will
get our honest friend, Heel-tap, to execute the office:
he is, I think, every way qualified.
MOB. A Heel-tap!
HEEL. What, d'ye mean as master Jeremy's deputy?
SIR J. Ay, ay, his locum tenens.
SNEAK. Do, Crispin; do be my locum tenens.
HEEL. Give me your hand, master Sneak, and to
oblige you, I will be the locum tenens.
SIR J. So, that is settled: but now to heal the
other breach: come, major, the gentlemen of your
cloth seldom bear malice; let me interpose between
you and my son.




54          THE MAYOR OF GARRATT.
MAJ. S. Your son-in-law, sir Jacob, does deserve
a castigation; but on recollection, a cit would but
sully my arms. I forgive him.
SIR J. That's right. As a token of amity, and to
celebrate our feast, let us call in the fiddles. Now, if
the major had but his shoes, he might join in a country dance.
MAJ. S. Sir Jacob, no shoes; a major must be never out of his boots; always ready for action. Mrs.
Sneak will find me lightsome enough.
SNEAK. What, are all the vomen engaged? why
then my locum tenens and I will jig together. Forget
and forgive, major.
MAJ. S. Freely.
Nor be it said, that after all my toil,
I stain'd my regimentals by a broil.
To you I dedicate boots, sword and shield,
SIR J. As harmless in the chamber as the field.




I




L-_. C ---
_2 ---

I   I  J;
1 -<, iMI


~l~~_~lRC_'N —~-.- 3          -   a    -
PEACHITM.-If I am hanged, it shall be for ridding the world of an arrant rascal!
[They collar each other.




THE


BEGGAR'S OPERA;
IN THREE ACTS,
BY JOHN GAY;
AS PERFORMED AT THE THEATRES ROYAL
ILLUSTRATED WITH ORIGINAL DESIGNS,
BY ROBERT CRUIKSHANK,
ENGRAVED BY
KIRCHNER AND P. CRUIKSHANK.
WITH INTRODUCTORY REMARKS.
LONDON:
JOSEPH THOMAS, FINCH LANE, CORNHILL,
SOLD BY SIMPKIN AND MARSIIALL, STATIONEIS' COURT.
1837.




WILLOUGHBY & CO. PRINTERS, 109, GoSWELL STREET.




THE BEGGAR'S OPERA, perhaps the most successful
piece ever produced on the English stage, was first performed on the 29th of January, 1728.
Its origin is generally attributed to a remark of Swift,
as related in the words of Pope by Spence, to the effect
of-" what a pretty sort of a thing a Newgate Pastoral
might make."  "Gay," says Pope, "was inclined to try
at such a thing for some time; but afterwards thought it
would be better to write a comedy on the same plan."
The reason which induced this change in our author's
project, may probably be found in the extraordinary success which at that time attended the Italian Opera, only
recently (in 1705) introduced into England, and then
tander the direction of Handel; and the quarrel then
raging between two of its principal singers, Faustina and
Cuzzoni, which occupied and divided the fashionables of
the town to such an extent, that after an infinity of private slander, public abuse, and the absolute personal
conflict of the two signoras, it was only terminated by
Cuzzoni quitting the kingdom. It may be easily imagined, when the papers had daily teemed with accounts
of the actions between the rival parties, headed on the one
side by the Countess of Pembroke, and on the other
by the Ladies Burlington and Delawar, when a war,
the subject of which had been the rival pretensions of
two celebrated women,-fiercely maintained by womenhad just terminated, and the combatants languished
after the dread contention and the plenteous discharge of
the missives of politer warfare, pointed in epigrams, exchanged with glorious ardour, amid hissings and clapping
of hands, animated by the melodious sounds of cat-calls
and other accompaniments, and which not the laws of
decorum nor the presence of royalty itself could restrain;
that such a time would be highly favourable to the pro.
duction of such a piece, even had it proceeded from a
pen less distinguished than that of Gay, and had its
merits been less than those of the Beggar's Opera.
Pope says, that when Gay first mentioned his project




0                   REMARKS.
to Swift, the doctor did not like it; and that when it was
done, neither Pope nor Swift thought it could succeed:
Congreve could not make up his mind as to whether
it would "take greatly or be damned confoundedly;"
but the Duke of Argyle, who had, it seems, a particular
knack of discovering the taste of the public (which often means the same thing as leading it), long before the
first act was concluded, exclaimed: " It will do-it must
do! I see it in the eyes of them"-and he was right, for
the applause grew stronger and stronger, and ended in
an universal clamour.
It was first offered to Cibber at Drury-Lane, and rejected; and being then taken to Rich at Lincoln's Inn
theatre, had the effect, as it was said, of making Gay
rich and Rich gay; our author's profits amounting to six
hundred pounds. It was performed sixty-three nights in
the first season, the receipts during such representations
amounting to ~11,363. 4s. od., being an average of about
~180 per night, an immense sum for that period. It was
renewed the next season with equal applause; immediately spread into all the great towns of England,
Scotland and Ireland, and in many places was played
thirty, forty, and fifty times successively. The ladies
carried about with them the favourite songs in fans,
houses were furnished with them in screens, and even
playing cards were made the vehicles of music and song,
no doubt to the serious annoyance of our whist-loving
grandmothers, who heartily cursed the poor card-maker
that first sent our poet's airs "to Bath." Nor was
its fame confined to our author. "The lady who acted
Polly, Lavinia Fenton, until then obscure, became at once
the favourite of the town, (and of the Duke of Bolton,
whom she afterwards married), her pictures were engraved,
her life written, books of letters and verses, to her published, and pamphlets made even of her sayings and
jests."
The public seemed. as though they never could be satiated with the piece, while the manager took good care to




REMARKS.


7


keep up the excitement to the greatest of his ability. On
new-year's-day, 1729, it was acted "by the Lilliputians,"
before the Prince of Wales, and these pigmy prodigies
served to amuse the town for fifteen nights, the lowest
receipt being ~37. 2s., while the tragedy of Macbeth,
acted shortly after, brought only fourteen guineas. But
this was not to last for ever, and it soon shared the fate
of the productions of our " immortal bard," in not being
able occasionally to draw an audience, for, in 1737 -" Dismissed the Beggar's Opera,"-occurs in the register
of Covent-Garden theatre, on the 26th May and 27th
June; and the same event is rather extraordinarily recorded on the 17th May, 1740, on the night appointed
" for the benefit of Mr. Walker," at Drury-Lane, as this
is supposed to refer to Tom Walker, the original Macheath.
The success of the Beggar's Opera induced Gay to
attempt a continuation, under the name of " Polly," but
the poet was out of favour at court, and the satire of the
Beggar's Opera had been so little relished by those at
whom it was supposed (principally by its fitness) to be
levelled, that, under pretence of discouraging a species of
writing " which exalted vice and error into qualifications
for a hero-that hero a highwayman-and dismissed at
last unpunished," it was prohibited by the Lord Chamberlain. Had the courtiers been wise, they would have
revenged themselves by letting the piece be played, for a
more rubbishing and vapid production than Polly never
appeared, while, by persecuting our author, it was eagerly
sought after, and produced him by its printing nearly
~1,200. His repulse, also, gained for him the increased
attention of the Duke of Queensbury, into whose house
he was taken and with whom he passed the remainder of
his life. The anger of the court may be supposed to
have been great, when the Duke and Duchess of Queensbury were forbidden its entree, in consequence of their
patronage of Gay. The duke, however, was not to be
daunted, he threw up his employments, and the duchess




6                    REMARKS.
wrote a spirited, though not very elegant remonstrance
to the king and queen on the occasion.
The objection to its performance on the score of its immorality has not been confined to thereign of George II.,
for in 1773 Mr. Colman, then manager of Covent-Garden
theatre, received a letter from the magistrates of Bowstreet, requesting him not to exhibit the opera, they
" deeming it productive of mischief to society, as in their
opinion it most undoubtedly increased the number of
thieves,"-in reply to which Mr. Colman observed, that
he differed in opinion from their worships, "thinking
that the theatre was one of the very few houses in the
neighbourhood which did not contribute to that effect."
So far, perhaps, Mr. Colman was right, but when, in
1780, he had recourse to the whimsical and indecent
mode of attracting visitors to the Haymarket, by travestying the same opera, putting all the female performers in the male parts, and vice versa, had the authorities interfered for the prevention of this novel exhibition
of our late immaculate licencer, it could not have been
considered a very unjustifiable stretch of the magisterial
power. The tendency of the piece is briefly but ably
stated by Johnson, who says, in reference to Swift's commendations for its excellent morality, and Dr. Herring's
censures, that "both these derisions are surely exaggerated. The play, like many others, was plainly written,
only to divert, without any moral purpose, and is not
likely therefore to do good; nor can it be conceived without more speculation than life requires or admits, to be
productive of evil. Highwaymen and house-breakers
seldom frequent the play-house, or mingle in any elegant
diversion, nor is it possible for any one to imagine that
he may rob with safety, because he sees Macheath reprieved on the stage."
Gay was born in 1688, at or near Barnstaple, where he
was educated, and at the age of twenty-five produced his
poem of Rural Sports, which he inscribed to Pope, with
whom he thus formed a frieriship which ended only




REMARKS.


9


with his life. His first dramatic effort, the Mohocks,
was produced in 1712, and he subsequently wrote eleven
other pieces, of which the Beggar's Opera was alone
eminently and deservedly successful, although to him is
inscribed by Johnson the invention of the Ballad Opera.
His Fables are the most popular of his other poems, still
keeping their place among the classics of our language.
Gay, with all his knowledge of the passions and failings
of mankind, was little skilled in the world's ways. He
made money but to display his want of economy and his
ignorance of its employment, while elated at a trifling
success or oppressed at a trivial disappointment, he was
of so weak a temperament as always to be dependant on
his friends for consolation and direction. His last grand
failure, with regard to his " Polly," so deeply affected
him, that all the attentions of his friends were unable to
rally even his pliant disposition, and he died on the 4th
of December, 1732, sincerely and deeply regretted by the
literati of the day, who had always "regarded him as a
play-fellow rather than a partner, and treated him with
more fondness than respect."
The Beggar's Opera continues, and is likely to continue, a stock piece, as its wit, humour, and universal
satire belong to no peculiar class of men or time. Since
its first production, the most eminent performers in the
character of Polly have been Mrs. Cibber, Mrs. Billing
ton, Mrs. Dickons, Miss Stephens, and Mrs. Wood;
Lucy has never been better played than in our time, by
Miss Kelly, although some prefer Mrs. Charles Kemble
in the same part; while Macheath has found a succession
of representatives in Beard, Lowe, Wilder, Vernon, Incledon, and Braham. Mrs. Davenport was celebrated
in Mrs. Peachum, a character for which Mrs. C. Jones
is eminently calculated. Filch, Peachum, and Lockit
have been admirably sustained by Simmons, Munden,
and Dowton, but in naming the last of these characters,
it would be unjust to omit all mention of our late favourites Emery and Blanchard. The piece has not been




10


COSTUME, ETC.


lately very effectively cast, nor, in the present dearth of
real comic talent, does it appear likely soon to be so. It
has been, however, successfully parodied on the political
stage, and the Beggar's Opera has, for some time, been
nightly played by " Her Majesty's Servants," under the
management and for the benefit of Mr. Daniel O'Connell,
whose bills, while they put forth, somewhat ostentatiously, " VIVAT REGINA," are more conspicuous for the
size of the print, in which " those who run may read,"" NO MONEY TO BE RETURNED."
July, 1837.                                      J. T.
(optume.
MACHEATH.-Flrst dress. Green frock coat, coloured waistcoat,
leather breeches, jockey boots, and white hat. Second dress. Suit of
black.
PEACHUM.-Black or brown velvet coat, scarlet or flowered waistcoat; breeches, stockings, shoes and buckles; brown wig.
LOCKIT.-Old-fashioned brown coat, coloure I waistcoat, breeches,
stockings, shoes and buckles; wig and cocked hat.
FILCH.-Brown coat, striped waistcoat, drab breeches and gaiters.
JAILORS, THIEVES, &c.-Old-fashioned but suitable dresses.
POLLY.-White leno or muslin dress, made in a style of elegance
and fashion, head-dress to correspond.
LUCY.-Smart cotton or coloured gown, apron made from a belcher
silk handkerchief, white cap with tawdry ornaments.
MRS. PEACHUM.-Green silk gown flounced and made very full,
apron made from a delicate silk handkerchief trimmed with lace.
JENNY DIVER, &c. &c. &c..-Smart modern dresses.
tslge   i)frection0.
R. means Right.-L. Left.-C. Centre.
The lines distinguished by inverted commas (") are omitted in the
representation.      ~




THE BEGGAR'S OPERA.
ACT I.
SCENE I.-PEACHUM'S House.
PEACHUM sitting at a table, with a large book of accounts before him.
AIR-PEACHUM.-(An old woman clothed in grey.)
Through all the employments in life,
Each neighbour abuses his brother:
Whore and rogue, they call husband and wife;
All professions be-rogue one another.
The priest calls the lawyer a cheat;
The lawyer be-knaves the divine:
And the statesman, because he's so great,
Thinks his trade is as honest as mine.
A lawyer is an honest employment-so is mine. Like
me, too, he acts in a double capacity, both against
rogues, and for them; for 'tis but fitting, that we
should protect and encourage cheats, since we live by
them.
Enter FILCH, L.
FILCH. Sir, Black Moll has sent word, that her
trial comes on in the afternoon, and she hopes you
will order matters so as to bring her off.
PEACH. Why, as the wench is very active and
industrious, you may satisfy her, that I'll soften the
evidence.
FILCH. Tom Gagg, sir, is found guilty.
PEACH. A lazy dog! When I took him, the time
before, I told him what he would come to, if he did
not mend his hand. This is death, without reprieve.




BEGGAR'S OPERA.


I may venture to book him; [Writes.] for Tom Gagg,
forty pounds. Let Betty Sly know, that I'll save her
from transportation, for I can get more by her staying
in England.
FILCH. Betty has brought more goods to our lock
this year, than any five of the gang; and in truth,
'tis pity to lose so good a customer.
PEACH. If none of the gang take her off, she may,
in the common course of business, live a twelvemonth
longer. I love to let a woman 'scape, Filch. A good
sportsman always lets the hen partridges fly, because
the breed of the game depends upon them. Besides,
here the law allows us no reward: there is nothing to
be got by the death of women-except our wives.
FILCH. Without dispute she is a fine woman! 'Twas
to her I was obliged for my education. To say a bold
word, she has trained up more young fellows to the
business than the gaming table.
PEACH. Truly, Filch, thy observation is right. We
and the surgeons are more beholden to women than
all the professions besides.
AIR-FILCH.-(The bonny grey-ey'd morn, &c.)
'Tis woman that seduces all mankind;
By her we first were taught the wheedling arts.
Her very eyes can cheat; when most she's kind,
She tricks us out of our money, with our hearts.
For her, like wolves by night, we rqam for prey,
And practice every fraud to bribe her charms;
For suits of love, like law, are won by pay,
And beauty must be fee'd into our arms.
PEACH. But make haste to Newgate, boy, and let
my friends know what I intend; for I love to make
them easy, one way or another.




BEGGAR'S OPERA.              13
FILCH. When a gentleman is long kept in suspense,
penitence may break his spirit ever after. Besides,
certainty gives a man a good air upon his trial, and
makes him risk another, without fear or scruple. But
I'll away, for 'tis a pleasure to be a messenger of
comfort to friends in affliction.      [Exit, L.
PEACH. But it is now high time to look about me
for a decent execution against next session. I hate
a lazy rogue, by whom one can get nothing, till he is
hanged. A register of the gang. [Reading.] Crookfinger'd Jack-a year and a half in the service-let me
see how much the stock owes to his industry;-One
two, three, four, five gold watches, and seven silver
ones. A mighty clean-handed fellow! sixteen snuffboxes, five of them true gold; six dozen of handkerchiefs, four silver-hilted swords, half-a-dozen of shirts,
three tie-periwigs, and a piece of broad cloth. Considering these are only the fruits of his leisure hours,
I don't know a prettier fellow; for no man alive hath
a more engaging presence of mind upon the road.
Wat Dreary, alias Brown Will, an irregular dog! who
hath an underhand way of disposing of his goods;
I'll try him only for a session or two longer, upon his
good behaviour. Harry Paddington, a poor pettylarceny rascal, without the least genius! that fellow,
though he were to live these six months, will never
come to the gallows with any credit. Slippery Sam,
he goes off the next session; for the villain hath the
impudence to have views of following his trade as a
tailor, which he calls an honest employment. Mat o'
the Mint listed not above a month ago; a promising
sturdy fellow, and diligent in his way; somewhat too
bold and hasty, and may raise good contributions on




14             BEGGAR S OPERA.
the public, if he does not cut himself short by murder.
Tom Tipple, a guzzling, soaking sot, who is always
too drunk to stand himself, or to make others stand;
a cart is absolutely necessary for him. Robin of Bagshot, alias Gorgon, alias Bluff Bob, alias Carbuncle,
alias Bob BootyEnter Mrs. PEACHUM, R.
Mrs. P. What of Bob Booty, husband? I hope
nothing bad hath betided him. You know, my dear,
he's a favourite customer of mine;'twas he made me a
present of this ring.     [Sits opposite Peachum.
PEACH. I have set his name down in the black list,
that's all, my dear; he spends his life among women,
and, as soon as his money is gone, one or other of the
ladies will hang him for the reward, and there's forty
pounds lost to us for ever.
Mrs. P. You know, my dear, I never meddle in
matters of death; I always leave those affairs to
you. Women, indeed, are bitter bad judges in
these cases; for they are so partial to the brave,
that they think every man handsome who is
going to the camp or the gallows.-[Both rise and
come forward], But, really, husband, you should not
be too hard-hearted, for you never had a finer, braver
set of men, than at present. We have not had a
murder among them all these seven months; and
truly, my dear, that is a great blessing.
PEACH. What a dickens is the woman always whimpering about murder for? No gentleman is ever
looked upon the worse for killing a man in his own
defence; and if business cannot be carried on without
it, what would you have a gentleman do? so, my dear,
have done upon this subject. Was Captain Macheath




BEGGAR'S OPERA,             15
here this morning, for the bank notes he left with you
last week?
Mrs. P. Yes, my dear; and though the bank hath
stopped payment, he was so cheerful, and so agreeable! Sure, there is not a finer gentleman upon the
road than the Captain! If he comes from Bagshot
at any reasonable hour, he hath promised to make one
this evening, with Polly, me, and Bob Booty, at a
party at quadrille. Pray, my dear, is the Captain
rich?
PEACH. The Captain keeps too good company ever
to grow rich. Marybone, and the chocolate-houses,
are his undoing. The man that proposes to get money by play, should have the education of a fine gentleman, and be trained up to it from his youth.
Mrs. P. Really, I am sorry, upon Polly's account,
the Captain hath not more discretion. What business
hath he to keep company with lords and gentlemen?
he should leave them to prey upon one another.
PEACH. Upon Polly's account! what a plague doth
the woman mean?-upon Polly's account!
Mrs. P. Captain Macheath is very fond of the girl.
PEACH. And what then?
Mrs. P. If I have any skill in the ways of women,
I am sure Polly thinks him a very pretty man.
PEACH. And what then? you would not be so mad
as to have the wench marry him! Gamesters and
highwaymen are, generally, very good to their whores,
but they are very devils to their wives.
Mrs. P. But if Polly should be in love, how should
we help her, or how can she help herself?-Poor girl,
I'm in the utmost concern about her.
PEACH. Lookye, wife, a handsome wench in our
B




16              BEGGAR'S OPERA.
way of business, is as profitable as at the bar of a
Temple coffee-house, who looks upon it as her livelihood, to grant every liberty but one. My daughter
to me, should be like a court lady to a minister of
state, a key to the whole gang. Married! if the affair
is not already done, I'll terrify her from it, by the example of our neighbours.
Mrs. P. Mayhap, my dear, you may injure the poor
girl: she loves to imitate the fine ladies, and she may
only allow the Captain liberties, in the view of interest.
PEACH. But it is your duty, my dear, to warn the
girl against her ruin, and to instruct her how to make
the most of her beauty. I'll go to her this moment,
4nd sift her. In the mean time, wife, rip out the coronets and marks of these dozen of cambric handkerchiefs: I can dispose of them this afternoon to a
chap in the city.                       [Exit, L.
Mrs. P. Never was a man more out of the way
in an argument than my husband. Why must our
Polly, forsooth, differ from her sex, and love only her
husband? and why must Polly's marriage, contrary
to all observation, make her the less followed by other
men? [Filch sings without.]  All men are thieves in
love, and like a woman the better for being another's
property.
Enter FILCH, L.
Mrs. P. Come hither, Filch.-I am as fond of this
child, as, though my mind misgave me, he were my
own. He hath as fine a hand at picking a pocket as
a woman, and is as nimble fingered as a juggler. If
an unlucky session does not cut the rope of thy life, I








^^zr-!  ^ -   - -",^-.1  ^ -— I-`-Z- ii~iiii~  ii i  -- 1.1'):
I                 ---


-----------


FILcH.-These seven handkerchiefs, madam.




BEGGAR S OPERA.


pronounce, boy, thou wilt be a great man in history.
Where was your post last night, my boy?
FILCH. I plied at the opera, madam; and, considering 'twas neither dark nor rainy, so that there
was no great hurry in getting chairs and coaches,
made a tolerable hand on't.-[He unties the kneestrings of his breeches and draws from each leg a silk
handkerchief, then othersfrom his coat sleeves, &c. &c.]
-These seven handkerchiefs, madam.
Mrs. P. Coloured ones, I see. They are of sure
sale from our warehouse at Redriff, among the seamen.
FILCH. And this snuff-box.
Mrs. P. Set in gold! a pretty encouragement this,
to a young beginner!
FILCH. I had a fair tug at a charming gold ticker.
Pox take the tailors for making the fobs so deep and
narrow!-it stuck by the way, and I was forced to
make my escape under a coach. Really, madam, I
fear I shall be cut off in the flower of my youth, so
that, every now and then, since I was pumped, I have
thoughts of taking up and going to sea.
Mrs. P. You should go to Hockley-in-the-hole,
and to Marybone, child, to learn valour; these are
the schools that have bred so many brave men. I
thought, boy, by this time thou hadst lost fear as well
as shame. Poor lad! how little does he know yet of
the Old Bailey! For the first fact, I'll insure thee
from being hanged; and going to sea, Filch, will
come time enough, upon a sentence of transportation.
"' But now, since you have nothing better to do, even
go to your book, and learn your catechism; for really
a man makes but an ill figure in the ordinary's paper,
who cannot give a satisfactory answer to his quesB




BEGGAR'S OPERA.


tions." But, hark you, my lad, don't tell me a lie;
for you know I hate a liar:-Do you know of any
thing that has passed between Captain Macheath and
our Polly?
FILCH. I beg you, madam, don't ask me; for I
must either tell a lie to you or to Miss Polly; for I
promised her I would not tell.
Mrs. P. But when the honour of our family is concernedFILCH. I shall lead a sad life with Miss Polly, if
ever she comes to know I told you. Besides, I would
not willingly forfeit my own honour, by betraying any
body.
Mrs. P. Yonder comes my husband and Polly.
Come, Filch, you shall go with me into my own
room, and tell me the whole story. I'll give thee a
glass of a most delicious cordial that I keep for my own
drinking.  [Exeunt, R.-As they are going of, Filch
picks Mrs. Peachum's pocket, of a white handkerchief,
exclaiming " I've nabbed the lily for Black Moll."]
Enter PEACHUM and POLLY, L.
POLLY. I know as well as any of the fine ladies,
how to make the most of myself and of my man too.
A woman knows how to be mercenary, though she
hath never been in a court or an assembly. We have
it in our natures, papa. If I allow Captain Macheath
some trifling liberties, I have this watch and other visible marks of his favour to show for it. A girl who cannot grant some things, and refuse what is most material, will make but a poor hand of her beauty, and
soon be thrown upon the common.




BEGOAR'S OPERA.


19


AIR —(What shall I do to show how much I love her.)
Virgins are like the fair flower in its lustre,
Which in the garden enamels the ground!
Near it the bees, in play, flutter and cluster,
And gaudy butterflies frolic around;
But when once pluck'd, 'tis no longer alluring,
To Covent-Garden 'tis sent, (as yet sweet)
There fades, and shrinks, and grows past all enduring,
Rots, stinks, and dies, and is trod under feet.
PEACH. You know, Polly, I am not against your
toying and.trifling with a customer, in the way of
business, or to get out a secret or so; but if I find
out that you have played the fool, and are married,
you jade you, I'll cut your throat, hussy. Now you
know my mind.
Enter Mrs. PEACHIUM, R. in a very great passion
AIR-(O London is a fine town.)
Our Polly is a sad slut! nor heeds what;>e have taught
her,
I wonder any man alive will ever rear a daughter!
For she must have both hoods and gowns, and hoops to
swell her pride,
With scarfs and stays, and gloves and lace, and she will
have men beside;
And when she's dress'd with care and cost, all tempting,
fine, and gay,
As men should serve a cucumber, she flings herself away.
You baggage! you hussy! you inconsiderate jade!
had you been hanged, it would not have vexed me;
for that might have been your misfortune; but to do
such a mad thing by choice!-The wench is married,
husband.
PEACH. Married I the Captain is a bold man, and
will risk any thing for money; to be sure he believes




20


BEGGAR'S OPERA.


her a fortune. Do you think your mother and I
should have lived comfortably so long together, if ever
we had been married, baggage?
Mrs. P. I knew she was always a proud slut; and
now the wench hath played the fool and married, because, forsooth, she would do like the gentry! Can
you support the expense of a husband, hussy, in
gaming, and drinking? have you money enough to
carry on the daily quarrels of man and wife about
who shall squander most? If you must be married,
could you introduce nobody into our family but a
highwayman! Why, thou foolish jade, thou wilt be
as ill used, and as much neglected, as if thou hadst
married a lord.
PEACH. Let not your anger, my dear, break through
the rules of decency; for the Captain looks upon
himself, in the military capacity, as a gentleman by
his profession. Besides, what he hath already, I
know he is in a fair way of getting or of dying; and
both these ways, let me tell you, are most excellent
chances for a wife. Tell me, hussy, are you ruined
or not?
Mrs. P. With Polly's fortune she might very well
have gone off to a person of distinction; yes, that
you might, you pouting slut.
PEACH. What! is the wench dumb? speak, or I'll
make you plead by squeezing out an answer from
you. Are you really bound wife to him, or are you
only upon liking?                 [Pinches her.
POLLY. Oh!                        [Screaming.
Mrs. P. How the mother is to be pitied who hath
handsome daughters: Locks, bolts, bars, and lectures




BEGGAR'S OPERA.


of morality, are nothing to them; they break through
them all; they have 'as much pleasure in cheating a
father and mother as in cheating at cards.
PEACH. Why, Polly, I shall soon know if you are
married, by Macheath's keeping from our house.
AIR-POLLY, c.-(Grim king of the ghosts, fic.)
Can love be controll'd by advice?
Will Cupid our mothers obey?
Tho' my heart were as frozen as ice,
At his flame 'twould have melted away.
When he kiss'd me, so sweetly he press'd,
'Twas so sweet that I must have complied,
So I thought it both safest and best
To marry, for fear you should chide.
Mrs. P. Then all the hopes of our family are gone
for ever and ever.
PEACH. And Macheath may hang his father and
mother-in-law, in hopes to get into their daughter's
fortune.
POLLY. I did not marry him, 'as 'tis the fashion,'
coolly and deliberately, for honour or money-but I
love him.
Mrs. P. Love him! worse and worse! I thought
the girl had been better bred. 0 husband! husband!
her folly makes me mad! my head swims! I'm distracted! I cannot support myself-Oh I
[Throws herself into a chair and faints.
PEACH. See, wench, to what a condition you have
reduced your poor mother! A glass of cordial this
instant! How the poor woman takes it to heart!
[Polly goes out, R. and returns with a bottle and glass.]
Ah, hussy! now this is the only comfort your mother
has left.             [Gives her a glass of cordial.




22


BEGGAR'S OPERA.


POLLY. Give her another glass, sir; my mamma
drinks double the quantity whenever she is out of
order. This, you see, fetches her.
Mrs. P. The girl shows such readiness, and so
much concern, that I almost could find in my heart
to forgive her.
[Drinks again, rises, and they all come forward.
DUET-(O Jenny, 0 Jenny, where hast thou been?)
Mrs. P.   0 Polly, you might have toy'd and kiss'd:
By keeping men off you keep them on.
Polly.         But he so teas'd me,
And he so pleas'd me,
What I did you must have done.
Mrs. P. Not with a highwayman, you sorry slut.
PEACH. A word with you, wife. 'Tis no new thing
for a wench to take a husband without consent of
parents. You know 'tis the frailty of woman, my
dear.
Mrs. P. Yes, indeed, the sex is frail; but the first
time a woman is frail, she should be somewhat nice,
methinks; for then, or never is her time to make her
fortune: after that, she hath nothing to do, but to
guard herself from being found out, and she may do
what she pleases.
PEACH. Make yourself a little easy; I have a
thought shall soon set all matters again to rights.
Why so melancholy, Polly? since what is done cannot be undone, we must endeavour to make the most
of it.
Mrs. P. Well, Polly, as far as one woman can forgive another, I forgive thee.-Your father is too fond
of you, hussy.
POLLY. Then all my sorrows are at an end.




BEGGAR'S OPERA.              23
Mrs. P. A mighty likely speech, in troth, for a
wench who is just married.
AIR-POLLY.-(Thomas, I cannot, &c.)
I like a ship in storms was toss'd,
Yet afraid to go into land,
For seized in the port the vessel's lost,
Whose treasure is contraband.
The waves are laid,
My duty's paid;
O joy beyond expression!
Thus safe ashore
I ask no more;
My all's in my possession
PEACH. I hear customers in t'other room; go talk
with them, Polly; but come again as soon as they
are gone. [Polly going.] But harkye, child, if 'tis
the gentleman who was here yesterday about the repeating watch, say you can't get intelligence of it till
to-morrow, for I lent it to Sukey Straddle, to make a
figure with at a ball to-night, at a tavern in Drurylane. If t'other gentleman calls for the silver-hilted
sword, you know beetle-brow'd Jemmy hath it on,
and he doth not come from Tunbridge till Tuesday
night, so that it cannot be had till then. [Exit
POLLY, L.] Dear wife! be a little pacified; don't
let your passion run away with your senses: Polly, I
grant you, hath done a rash thing.
Mrs. P. If she had only an intrigue with the fellow,
why the very best families have excused and huddled
up a frailty of that sort. 'Tis marriage, husband, that
makes it a blemish.
PEACH. But money, wife, is the true fuller's earth
for reputations; there is not a spot or stain but what




24              BEGGAR'S OPERA.
it can take out. I tell you, wife, I can make this
match turn out to our advantage.
Mrs. P. I am very sensible, husband, that Captain
Macheath is worth money; but I am in doubt whether he hath not two or three wives already, and then,
if he should die in a session or two, Polly's dower
would come into dispute.
PEACH. That indeed is a point which ought to be
considered. The lawyers are bitter enemies to those
in our way; they don't care that any body should get
a clandestine livelihood but themselves.
Enter POLLY, L.
POLLY. 'Twas only Nimming Ned: he brought in
a damask window-curtain, a hoop-petticoat, a pair of
silver candlesticks, a periwig, and one silk stocking
from the fire that happened last night.
PEACH. There is not a fellow that is cleverer in hib
way, and saves more goods out of the fire, than Ned.
But now, Polly, to your affair; for matters must not
be as they are. You are married then, it seems.
POLLY. Yes, sir.
PEACH. And how do you propose to live, child?
POLLY. Like other women, sir; upon the industry
of my husband.
Mrs. P. What! is the wench turn'd fool? a highwayman's wife, like a soldier's, hath as little of his
pay as of his company.
PEACH. And had not you the common views of a
gentlewoman in your marriage, Polly?
POLLY. I don't know what you mean, sir.
PEACH. Of a jointure, and of being a widow.
POLLY. But I love him, sir; how then could I have
thoughts of parting with him.




BEGGAR'S OPERA.


25


PEACH. Parting with him! why that is the whole
scheme and intention of all marriage articles. The
comfortable estate of widowhood is the only hope that
keeps up a wife's spirits. Where is the woman who
could scruple to be a wife, if she had it in her power
to be a widow whenever she pleased? If you have
any views of this sort, Polly, I shall think the match
not so very unreasonable.
POLLY. How I dread to hear you advise? yet I
must beg you to explain yourself.
PEACH. Secure what he hath got, have him peach'd
the next session, and then at once you are made a
rich widow.
POLLY. What! murder the man I love: the blood
rues cold at my heart with the very thought of it!
PEACH. Fie, Polly,! what hath murder to do in
the affair? Since the thing sooner or later must
happen, I dare say, that the Captain himself would
like that we should get the reward for his death
sooner than a stranger. Why, Polly, the Captain
knows, that as 'tis his employment to rob, so 'tis ours
to take robbers; every man in his business; so that
there is no malice in the case.
Mrs. P. To have him peach'd is the only thing
could ever make me forgive her.
AIR-POLLY, to her mother (kneeling).-(Now ponder
well ye parents dear.)
O ponder well! be not severe;
So save a wretched wife;
For on the rope that hangs my dear
Depends poor Polly's life.
[Turns and repeats the stanza to PEACH.
Mrs. P. But your duty to your parents, hussy,




BEGGAR'S OPERA.


obliges you to hang him. What would many a wife
give for such an opportunity!
[Peachum shakes his head and sighs.
POLLY. What is a jointure, what is widowhood to
me? I know my heart; I cannot survive him. Thus,
sir, it will happen to your poor Polly.
Mrs. P. What! is the fool in love in earnest then!
I hate thee for being particular. Why, wench, thou
art a shame to thy very sex!
POLLY. But hear, mother-if you ever lovedMrs. P. Those cursed play-books she reads have
been her ruin! One word more, hussy, and I shall
knock your brains out, if you have any.
PEACH. Keep out of the way, Polly, for fear of
mischief, and consider of what is proposed to you.
Mrs. P. Away, hussy. Hang your husband, and
be dutiful. [Exit, POLLY, L.] The thing, husband,
must and shall be done. If she will not know her
duty, we know ours.               [Polly listens.
PEACH. But really, my dear, it grieves one's heart
to take off a great man. When I consider his personal bravery, his fine stratagems, how much we
have already got by him, and how much more we
may get, methinks I can't find in my heart to have a
hand in his death: I wish you could have made Polly
undertake it.
Mrs. P. But in case of necessity-our own lives
are in danger.
PEACH. Then indeed we must comply with the customs of the world, and make gratitude give way to
interest,-He shall be taken off.
Mrs. P. I'll undertake to manage Polly.
PEACH. And I'll prepare matters for the Old Bailey.        [Exeunt PEACH. L. and Mrs. PEACH. R.




BEGGAR'S OPERA.              27
Enter POLLY, L.
POLLY. Now I'm a wretch indeed!-Methinks I
see him already in the cart, sweeter and more lovely
than the nosegay in his hand!-I hear the crowd extolling his resolution and intrepidity!-I see him at
the tree! the whole circle are in tears!-What then
will become of Polly!-As yet I may inform him of
their design, and aid him in his escape. It shall be
so. But then he flies, absents himself, and I bar
myself from his dear, dear conversation! that too
will distract me. If he keeps out of the way, my
papa and mamma may in time relent, and we may be
happy. If he stays, he is hanged, and then he is lost
for ever! He intended to be concealed in my room
till the dusk of the evening. If they are abroad, I'll
this instant let him out, lest some accident should
prevent him.
Enter MACHEATH.
DUET-(Pretty parrot say, &c.)
Mac.          Pretty Polly, say,
When I was away,
Did your fancy never stray
To some new lover.
Polly.        Without disguise,
Heaving sighs,
Doating eyes,
My constant heart discover.
Fondly let me loll!
Mac.          0 pretty, pretty, Poll!
POLLY, And are you as fond of me as ever, my
dear?
MAC. Suspect my honour, my courage; suspect
ray thing but my love. May my pistols miss fire,
C




28


BEGGAR'S OPERA.


and my mare slip her shoulder while I am pursued, if
ever I forsake thee!
POLLY. Nay, my dear! I have no reason to doubt
you, for I find in the romance you lent me, none of
the great heroes were ever false in love.
AIR-MACHEATH.- (Pray fair one be kind.)
My heart was so free,
It rov'd like the bee,
Till Polly my passion requited;
I sipt from each flower,
I chang'd ev'ry hour,
But here ev'ry flow'r is united.
POLLY. Were you sentenced to transportation, sure,
my dear, you could not leave me behind you-could
you?
MAC. Is there any power, any force, that could
tear me from thee? You might sooner tear a pension out of the hands of a courtier, a fee from a lawyer, a pretty woman from a looking-glass, or any
woman from quadrille-But to tear me from thee is
impossible!
DUET-(OVer the hills andfar away.)
Mac.    Were I laid on Greenland's coast,
And in my arms embrac'd my lass,
Warm amidst eternal frost,
Too soon the half-year's night would pass.
Polly.  Were I sold on Indian soil,
Soon as the burning day was clos'd,
I could mock the sultry toil,
When on my charmer's breast repos'd.
Mac.    And I would love you all the day,
Polly.  Every night would kiss and play,
Mac.    If with me you'd fondly stray,
Polly.  Over the hills and far away.




BEGGAR'S OPERA.


29


POLLY. Yes, I would go with thee. But, oh!how shall I speak it?  I must be torn from thee!
We must part!
MAC. How! part!
POLLY. We must, we must!-My papa and mamma
are set against thy life: they now, even now, are in
search after thee; they are preparing evidence against
thee; thy life depends upon a moment!
AIR-POLLY.-(Gin thou wert my ain thing.)
0, what pain it is to part!
Can I leave thee, can I leave thee?
0, what pain it is to part!
Can thy Polly ever leave thee?
But lest death my love should thwart,
And bring thee to the fatal cart,
Thus I tear thee from my bleeding heart!
Fly hence, and let me leave thee.
One kiss, and then!-one kiss?-Begone!-Farewell!
MAC. My hand, my heart, my dear, is so riveted
to thine, that I cannot unloose my hold!
POLLY. But my papa may intercept thee, and then
I should lose the very glimmering of hope. A few
weeks, perhaps, may reconcile us all. Shall thy Polly
hear from thee?
MAC. Must I then go?
POLLY. And will not absence change your love?
MAC. If you doubt it, let me stay-and be hanged.
POLLY. Oh, how I fear!-how I tremble!-Gobut, when safety will give you leave, you will be sure
to see me again; for, till then, Polly is wretched.
DUET-(O the broom, &c.)
Mac.    The miser thus a shilling sees,
Which he's obliged to pay,
B 2




30                BEGGAR'S OPERA.
With sighs resigns it by degrees,
And fears tis gone for aye.
Polly.   The boy thus, when his sparrow's flown,
The bird in silence eyes;
But soon as out of sight 'tis gone,
Whines, whimpers, sobs, and cries.
[Exeunt severally.




BEGGAR S OPERA.


31


ACT II.
SCENE I.-A Tavern near Newgate.
JEMMY TWITCHER, CROOKFINGER'D JACK, WAT
DREARY, ROBIN OF BAGSHOT, NIMMING NED,
HARRY PADDINGTON, MAT-O'-THE-MINT, BEN
BUDGE, FILCH, and the rest of the Gang, at a table,
with wine, brandy, and tobacco.
BEN. But pr'ythee, Mat, what has become of thy
brother Tom? I have not seen him since my return
from transportation.
MAT. Poor brother Tom had an accident, this time
twelvemonth, and so clever made a fellow he was, I
could not save him from these stealing rascals, the
surgeons; and now, poor man, he is among the otamies at Surgeons'-Hall.
BEN. So it seems his time was come.
JEMMY. But the present time is ours, and nobody
alive hath more. Why are the laws levelled at us?
are we more dishonest than the rest of mankind?
What we win, gentlemen, is our own, by the law of
arms and the right of conquest.
JACK. Where shall we find such another set of
practical philosophers, who, to a man, are above the
fear of death?
WAT. Sound men and true!
ROBIN. Of tried courage, and indefatigable industry!
NED. Who is there here, that would not die for his
friend?
HARRY. Who is there here, that would betray him
for his interest?




32


BEGGAR'S OPERA.


MAT. Show me a gang of courtiers that can say as
much.                                 [Laughter.
BEN. We are for a just partition of the world; for
every man has a right to enjoy life.
MAT. We retrench the superfluities of mankind.
The world is avaricious, and I hate avarice. A covetous fellow, like a jackdaw, steals what he was
never made to enjoy, for the sake of hiding it. These
are the robbers of mankind; for money was made for
the free-hearted and generous: and where is the injury of taking from another what he hath not the
heart to make use of?                [All laugh.
JEMMY. Our several stations for the day are fixed.
Good luck attend us all! Fill the glasses.
AIR-MAT. —(Fill every glass, &c.)
Fill ev'ry glass, for wine inspires us,
And fires us,
With courage, love and joy.
Women and wine should life employ:
Is there aught else on earth desirous?
Chorus. Fill ev'ry glass, &c.
Enter MACHEATH, L. singing.
MAC. Gentlemen, well met; [all rise] my heart
hath been with you this hour, but an unexpected
affair hath detained me. No ceremony, I beg you.
MAT. We were just breaking up, to go upon duty.
Am I to have the honour of taking the air with you,
sir, this evening upon the Heath? I drink a dram,
now and then with the stage-coachman, in the way
of friendship and intelligence: and I know, that about
this time, there will be passengers upon the western
road, who are worth speaking with.
MAC. I was to have been of that party-butMAT. But what, sir?




BEGGAR'S OPERA.


33


MAC. Is there any one that suspects my courage?
MAT. We have all been witnesses of it.
MAC. My honour and truth to the gang?
MAT. I'll be answerable for it.
MAC. In the division of our booty, have I ever
shown the least marks of avarice or injustice?
MAT. By these questions something seems to have
ruffled you. Are any of us suspected?
MAC. I have a fixed confidence, gentlemen, in you
all, as men of honour, and as such I value and respect
you. Peachum is a man that is useful to us.
MAT. IS he about to play us any foul play! I'll
shoot him through the head.
ALL-And I.
MAC. I beg you, gentlemen, act with conduct and
discretion. A pistol is your last resort.
MAT. He knows nothing of this meeting.
MAC. Business cannot go on without him: he is a
man who knows the world, and is a necessary agent
to us. We have had a slight difference, and, till it is
accommodated, I shall be obliged to keep out of his
way. Any private dispute of mine shall be of no ill
consequence to my friends. You must continue to
act under his direction; for, the moment we break
loose from him, our gang is ruined.
MAT. He is to us of great convenience.
MAC. Make him believe I have quitted the gang,
which I can never do but with life. At our private
quarters I will continue to meet you. A week, or so,
will probably reconcile us.
MAT. Your instructions shall be observed. 'Tis
now high time for us to repair to our several duties;
so, till the evening, at our quarters in Moorfields, we
bid you farewell.                  B 3




34


BEGGAR'S OPERA.


MAC. I shall wish myself with you. Success attend you.         [Sits down, melancholy, at the table.
AIR-MAT.-(March in Rinaldo, with drums and
trumpets.)
Let us take the road;
Hark! I hear the sound of coaches,
The hour of attack approaches,
To your arms, brave boys, and load.
See the ball I hold!
Let the chemists toil like asses,
Our fire their fire surpasses,
And turns all our lead to gold.
[The GANG, ranged in front of the stage, load their
pistols, and stick them under their girdles, then go
off, singing the first part in the chorus. FILCH,
who walks last, picks the pocket of the member of
the gang who goes out before him.
MAC. What a fool is a fond wench! Polly is most
confoundedly bit. I love the sex; and a man who
loves money, might as well be contented with one
guinea, as I with one woman. The town, perhaps,
hath been as much obliged to me, for recruiting it with
free-hearted ladies, as to any recruiting officer in the
army. If it were not for us, and the other gentlemen
of the sword, Drury-Lane would be uninhabited.
[Rises.
AIB-MACHEATH.-(Would you have a young virgin.)
If the heart of a man is depress'd with cares,
The mist is dispell'd when a woman appears,
Like the notes of a fiddle, she sweetly, sweetly,
Raises the spirits, and charms our ears.
Roses and lilies her cheeks disclose,
But her ripe lips are more sweet than those;




3


-              I   
V
C


--
- --- =7t- IZ, -7-.-:
I i.: - -.. —.. -
I
I J 4   -    -








BEGGAR'S OPERA.


37


Press her,
Caress her,
With blisses,
Her kisses,
Dissolve us in pleasure and soft repose.
I must have women-there is nothing unbends the
mind like them: money is not so strong a cordial for
the time-Drawer!
Enter DRAWER, R.
Is the porter gone for all the ladies, according to my
directions?
DRAWER. I expect him back every minute; but
you know, sir, you sent him as far as Hockley-in-theHole, for three of the ladies; for one in VinegarYard, and for the rest of them somewhere about
Lewkner's-Lane.  Sure some of them are below, for
'I hear the bar-bell. As they come, I will show them
up. Coming! Coming!                     [Exit R.
Enter Mrs. COAXER, DOLLY TRULL, Mrs. VIXEN,
BETTY DOXY, JENNY DIVER, Mrs. SLAMMERKIN,
SUKEY TAWDRY, and MOLLY BRAZEN, R. D.
MAC. [To them as they enter.] Dear Mrs. Coaxer,
you are welcome! you look charmingly to-day: I hope
you don't want the repairs of quality, and lay on paint.
Dolly Trull! kiss me you slut! are you as amorous as
ever, hussy? you are always so taken up with stealing
hearts, that you don't allow yourself time to steal any
thing else. Ah, Dolly! thou wilt ever be a coquette.
Mrs. Vixen, I'm yours! I always loved a woman of
wit and spirit; they make charming mistresses, but
plaguy wives. Betty Doxy I come hither, hussy: do
you drink as hard as ever? you had better stick to
good wholesome beer; for, in troth, Betty, strong




BEGGAR'S OPERA.


waters will in time, ruin your constitution: you
should leave those to your betters. What, and my
pretty Jenny Driver too! as prim and demure as ever!
there is not any prude, though ever so high bred,
hath a more sanctified look, with a more mischievous
heart: ah, thou art a dear, artful hypocrite! Mrs.
Slammerkin! as careless and genteel as ever! all you
fine ladies, who know your own beauty, affect an undress. But see! here's Sukey Tawdry come to contradict what I was saying. Molly Brazen! [She
kisses him.] That's well done: I love a free-hearted
wench: thou hast a most agreeable assurance, girl,
and art as willing as a turtle.
AIR and CHORUS.-(Cotillion.)
Mac.       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 despised in decay.
Chorus.     Youth's the season, &c.
Mac.      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.
MAC. Now pray ladies, take your places. Here,
drawer, bring us more wine. If any of the ladies
choose gin, I hope they will be so free as to call for it.
JEN. You look as if you meant me. Wine is strong




BEGGAR'S OPERA.


39


enough for me. Indeed, sir, I never drink strong
waters, but when I have the cholic.
MAC. Just the excuse of the fine ladies! why, a
lady of quality is never without the cholic. I hope,
Mrs. Coaxer, you have had good success of late in
your visits among the mercers!
Mrs. C. We have so many interlopers; yet, with
industry, one may still have a little picking. If any
woman hath more art than another, to be sure 'tis
Jenny Driver.
MAC. Have done with your compliments, ladies,
and drink about. You are not so fond of me, Jenny,
as you used to be.
JEN. 'Tis not convenient, sir, to show my fondness
among so many rivals. 'Tis your own choice, and
not the warmth of my inclination, that will determine
you. But to be sure, sir, with so much good fortune
as you have had upon the road, you must be grown
immensely rich.
MAC. The road, indeed, hath done me justice, but
the gaming table hath been my ruin.
JEN. A man of courage should never put any thing
to the risk but his life. These are the tools of a man
of honour, (pointing to his pistols on the table ) cards
and dice are only fit for cowardly cheats, who prey
upon their friends.
[She takes up one pistol; SUKEY TAWDRY takes
up the other.
SUKEY. This, sir, is fitter for your hand. Beside
your loss of money, 'tis a loss to the ladies. How
fond could I be of you: but, before company, 'its illbred.
MAC. Wanton hussies!




40


BEGGAR'S OPERA.


JEN. I must, and will have a kiss, to give my wine
a zest.   [They take him about his neck, and make
signs to PEACHUM and CONSTABLES,
who rush in upon him, R. D.
PEACH. I seize you, sir, as my prisoner.
MAC. Was this well done, Jenny?-Women are
decoy-ducks; who can trust them?-jades, jilts,
harpies, furies!
PEACH. Your case, Mr. Macheath, is not particular.
The greatest heroes have been ruined by women.
But, to do them justice, I must own they are a pretty
sort of creature, if we could trust them. You must
now, sir, take your leave of the ladies: and, if they
have a mind to make you a visit, they will be sure to
find you at home. This gentleman, ladies, lodges in
Newgate. Constables, wait upon the Captain to his
lodgings.
AIR-MACHEATH. —When first I laid siege to my
Chloris.
At the tree I shall suffer with pleasure,
At the tree I shall suffer with pleasure,
Let me go where I will,
In all kinds of ill,
I shall find no such furies as these are.
[Exit MACHEATH, guarded by PEACHUM and CONSTABLES, R. D.; and the LADIES after, with
great ceremony and bye-play.
SCENE II.-Newgate.
Enter LOCKIT, TURNKEYS, MACHEATH, and CONSTABLES.
LOCKIT. Noble Captain, you are welcome! you








tii,1
~-,'~." -
LocKIT. —We have them of all prices, from one guinea to ten.




BEGGAR S OPERA.


43


have not been a lodger of mine this year and a half.
You know the custom, sir; garnish, Captain, garnish.
Hand me down those fetters there. [Noise of chains.
MAC. Those, Mr. Lockit, seem to be the heaviest
of the whole set. With your leave, I should like the
farther pair better.
LOCKIT. Lookye, Captain, we know what is fittest
for our prisoners. When a gentleman uses me with
civility, I always do the best I can to please him.Hand them down, I say.-We have them of all prices,
from one guinea to ten; and 'tis fitting every gentleman should please himself.
MAC. I understand you, sir. [Gives money.] The
fees here are so many, and so exorbitant, that few
fortunes can bear the expense of getting off handsomely, or of dying like a gentleman.
LOCKIT. Those, I see, will fit the Captain better.
-Take down the farther pair. [Turnkey hands chain.]
Do but examine them, sir-Never was better workHow genteelly they are made!-They will sit as easy
as a glove, and the nicest man in England might not
be ashamed to wear them. [He puts on the chains.]
If I had the best gentleman in the land in my custody,
I could not equip him more handsomely. And so, sir,
I now leave you to your private meditations.
[Exeunt LOCKIT, TURNKEYS, and CONSTABLES.
AIR-MACHEATH.-(Courtiers, courtiers, think it no
harm.)
Man may escape from rope and gun,
Nay, some have outliv'd the doctor's pill;
Who takes a woman must be undone,
That basilisk is sure to kill.




44


BEGGAR'S OPERA.


The fly, that sips treacle, is lost in the sweets,
So he that tastes woman, woman, woman,
He that tastes woman, ruin meets.
To what a woful plight have I brought myself! 1Here
must I, all day long till I am hanged, be confined to
bear the reproaches of a wench, who lays her ruin at
my door-I am in the custody of her father; and, to
be sure, if he knows of the matter, I shall have a fine
time on't betwixt this and my execution.-But I promis'd the wench marriage.-What signifies a promise
to a woman? does not a man, in marriage itself, promise a hundred things that he never means to perform?
Do all we can, women will believe us; for they look
upon a promise as an excuse for following their own
inclinations.-But here comes Lucy, and I cannot get
from her-would I were deaf.
Enter Lucy, L.
LUCY. You base man, you! —how can you look me
in the face, after what hath passed between us;-Oh,
Macheath! thou hast robbed me of my quiet-to see
thee tortured would give me pleasure.
AIR-Luc —(A lovely Lass to a Friar came.)
Thus when a good housewife sees a rat
In her trap in the morning taken,
With pleasure her heart goes pit-a-pat,
In revenge for loss of her bacon;
T''hen she throws him
To the dog or cat,
To be worried, crush'd, and shaken.
MAC. Have you no tenderness, my dear Lucy! to
see a husband in these circumstances?
Lucy. A husband!
MAC. In every respect but the form, and that, my




BEGGAR S OPERA.


45


dear, may be said over us at any time.-Friends should
not insist upon ceremonies. From a man of honour,
his word is as good as his bond.
Lucy. It is the pleasure of all you fine men to insult
the women you have ruined.
MAC. The very first opportunity, my dear, but have
patience, you shall be my wife in whatever manner you
please.
Lucy. Insinuating monster! And so you think I
know nothing of the affair of Miss Polly Peachum?I could tear your eyes out.
MAC. Sure, Lucy, you can't be such a fool as to be
jealous of Polly.
Lucy. Are you not married to her, you brute you?
MAC. Married! very good. The wench gives it
out only to vex thee, and to ruin me in thy good
opinion. 'Tis true I go to the house, I chat with the
girl, I kiss her, I say a thousand things to her, as all
gentlemen do, that mean nothing, to divert myself;
and now the silly jade hath set it about that I am married to her, to let me know what she would be at.
Indeed, my dear Lucy, those violent passions may be
of ill consequence to a woman in your condition.
Lucy. Come, come, Captain, for all your assurance,
you know that Miss Polly hath put it out of your power
to do me the justice you promised me.
MAC. A jealous woman believes every thing her
passion suggests. To convince you of my sincerity,
if we can find the ordinary I shall have no scruples
of making you my wife; and I know the consequence
of having two at a time.
Lucy. That you are only to be hanged, and so
get rid of them both.




BEGGAR'S OPERA.


MAC. I am ready, my dear Lucy, to give you satisfaction-if you think there is any thing in marriage.
-What can a man of honour say more?
LUCY. So then it seems you are not married to
Miss Polly?
MAC. You know, Lucy, the girl is prodigiously
conceited! no man can say a civil thing to her, but
like other fine ladies her vanity makes her think he's
her own for ever and ever.
AIR. MACHEATH. (The sun had loos'd his weary teams.)
The first time at the looking-glass,
The mother sets her daughter;
The image strikes the smiling lass
With self-love ever after.
Each time she looks, she, fonder grown,
Thinks every charm grows stronger;
But alas, vain maid! all eyes but your own,
Can see you are not younger.
When women consider their own beauties, they are
all alike unreasonable in their demands; for they expect their lovers should like them as long as they
like themselves.
LUCY. Yonder is my father.-Perhaps this way we
may light upon the ordinary, who shall try if you will
be as good as your word-for I long to be made an
honest woman.                         [Exeunt R.
Enter PEACHUM, and LOCKIT, with an account book. L.
LOCKIT. In this last affair, brother Peachum, we
are agreed. You have consented to go halves in
Macheath.                      [Both sit at a table.
PEACH. We shall never fall out about an execution.
But as to that article, pray how stands our last year's
account?




BEGGAR'S OPERA.


47


LOCKIT. If you will run your eye over it, you'll
find 'tis fair and clearly stated.
PEACH. This long arrear of the government is very
hard upon us. Can it be expected that we should
hang our acquaintance for nothing, when our betters
will hardly save their's without being paid for it? Unless the people in employment pay better, I promise
them for the future I shall let other rogues live beside
their own.
LOCKIT. Perhaps, brother, they are afraid those
matters may be carried too far. We are treated too
by them with contempt, as if our profession were not
reputable.
PEACH. In one respect, indeed, our employment
may be reckoned dishonest, because, like great statesmen, we encourage those who betray their friends.
LOCKIT. Such language, brother, any where else
might turn to your prejudice. Learn to be more
guarded, I beg you.
AIR-LOCKIT.-(How happy are we, 8Sc.)
When you censure the age,
Be cautions and sage,
Lest the courtiers offended should be;
If you mention vice or bribe,
'Tis so pat to all the tribe,
Eaclh cries-That was levell'd at me.
PEACH. Here's poor Ned Clincher's name, I see;
sure, brother Lockit, there was a little unfair proceeding in Ned's case; for he told me in the condemned
hold, that, for value received, you had promised him
a session or two longer, without molestation.
LOCKIT. Mr. Peachum-this is the first time my
honour was ever called in question.
c 2




BEGGAR'S OPERA.


PEACH. Business is at an end-if once we act dishonourably.
LOCKIT. Who accuses me?
PEACH. You are warm, brother.
LOCKIT. He that attacks my honour, attacks my
livelihood-and this usage-sir-is not to be borne.
PEACH. Since you provoke me to speak-I must
tell you, too, that Mrs. Coaxer charges you with defrauding her of her information-money for the apprehending of Curlpated Hugh. Indeed, indeed, brother,
we must punctually pay our spies, or we shall have
no information.
LOCKIT. Is this language to me, sirrah-who have
saved you from the gallows, sirrah.
[Collaring each other.
PEACH. If I am hanged, it shall be for ridding the
world of an arrant rascal.
LoCKIT. This hand shall do the office of the halter
you deserve, and throttle you-you dog.
PEACH. Brother, brother-we are both in the wrong
-we shall be both losers in the dispute-for you know
we have it in our power to hang each other. You
should not be so passionate.
LOCKIT. Nor you so provoking.
PEACH. 'Tis our mutual interest-'tis for the interest of the world, we should agree. If I said any
thing, brother, to the prejudice of your character, I
ask pardon.
LocKIT. Brother Peachum-I can forgive as well
as resent-Give me your hand; suspicion does not
become a friend.
PEACH. I only meant to give you occasion to justify yourself. But I must now step home, for I expect




BEGGAR'S OPERA.


49


the gentleman about this snuff-box that Filch nimmed
two nights ago in the park. I appointed him at this
hour. (Aside.) I shall get you taken care of next
session.                            [Erit. L. D.
Enter LUCY. R.
LOCKIT. Whence come you hussy?
LUCY. My tears might answer that question.
LOCKIT. You have been whimpering and fondling
like a spaniel, over the fellow that has abused you.
LUCY. One can't help love; one can't cure it. 'Tis
not in my power to obey you and hate him.
LOCKIT. Learn to bear your husband's death like
a reasonable woman; 'tis not the fashion now-a-days,
so much as to affect sorrow upon these occasions. No
woman would ever marry, if she had not the chance
of mortality for a release. Act like a woman of
spirit, hussy, and thank your father for what he is
doing.
AIR-LucY.-(Of a noble race was Shenkin)
Is then his fate decreed, sir,
Such a man can I think of quitting?
When first we met, so moves me yet,
0 see how my heart is splitting!
LoCKIT. Lookye, Lucy-there is no saving himso I think you must even do like other widows-buy
yourself weeds, and be cheerful.
AIR.-LOCKIT.
You'll think, ere many days ensue,
This sentence not severe;
I hang your husband, child, 'tis true,
But with him hang your care.
Twang dang dillo dee.
Like a good wife, go moan over your dying husband;




50


BEGGAR'S OPERA.


that, child, is your duty-Consider girl, you can't
have the man and the money too-so make yourself
as easy as you can, by getting all you can from him.
Enter MACHEATH. R.          [Exit.
Lucy. Though the ordinary was out of the way
to-day, I hope, my dear, you will upon the first opportunity quiet my scruples-Oh, sir! my father's
hard heart is not to be softened, and I am in the
utmost despair.
MAC. But if I could raise a small sum-would not
twenty guineas, think you, move him?-Of all the
arguments in the way of business, the perquisite is
the most prevailing-Money, well timed, and properly applied, will do any thing.
LUCY. What love or money can do, shall be done;
for all my comfort depends upon your safety.
Enter POLLY. L.
POLLY. Where is my dear husband?-Was a rope
ever intended for this neck!-Oh, let me throw my
arms about it, and throttle thee with love!-Why
dost thou turn away from me? 'tis thy Polly-'tis thy
wife.
MAC. Was ever such an unfortunate rascal as I am?
LucY. Was there ever such another villain?
POLLY. Oh, Macheath! was it for this we parted?
Taken! imprisoned! tried! hanged!-Cruel reflection! I'll stay with thee till death-no force shall
tear thy dear wife from thee now. What means my
love? ---not one kind word! not one kind look!Think what thy Polly suffers, to see thee in this condition.
MAC. I must disown her. [Aside.] The wench is
distracted!








A


AIR- MACREATHR.-How happy could I be with either.




BEGGAR'S OPERA.


53


Lucy. Am I then bilked of my virtue? Can I have
no reparation? Sure men were born to lie, and women
to believe them! Oh villain! villain!
POLLY. Am I not thy wife?-Thy neglect of me,
thy aversion to me, too severely proves it.-Look on
me-Tell me, am I not thy wife?
LUCY. Perfidious wretch!
POLLY. Barbarous husband!
LUCY. Hadst thou been hanged five months ago, I
had been happy.
POLLY. If you had been kind to me till death, it
would not have vexed me.
LUCY. Art thou then married to another? Hast
thou two wives, monster?
MAC. If women's tongues can cease for an answer
-hear me.
Lucy. Iwon't-Flesh and blood can'tbearmyusage!
POLLY. Shall not I claim my own? Justice bids
me speak.
AIR.-MAc.-(Have you heard of a frolicksome ditty.)
How happy could I be with either,
Were t'other dear channer away!
But, while ye thus tease me together,
To neither a word will I say;
But tol de rol, &c.
POLLY. Sure my dear, there ought to be some preference shown to a wife-at least, she may claim the
appearance of it. He must be distracted with misfortunes, or he could not use me thus.
LUCY. Oh, villain! villain! thou hast deceived me!
-I could even inform against thee with pleasure.
Not a prude wishes more heartily to have facts against
her intimate acquaintance, than I now wish to have
facts against thee. I would have her satisfaction,
and they should all out.      D




54


BEGGAR'S OPERA.


DUET.- (Irish Trot)
Polly. I'm bubbled.
Lucy.            I'm bubbled.
Polly.                    Oh, how I'm troubled.
Lucy. Bamboozled and bit.
Polly.                My distresses are doubled.
Lucy. When you come to the tree, should the hangman
refuse,
These fingers with pleasure, could fasten the noose.
Polly. I'm bubbled, &c.
MAC. Be pacified, my dear Lucy-this is all a
fetch of Polly's to make me desperate with you, in
case I get off. If I am hanged, she would fain have
the credit of being thought my widow.-Really,
Polly, this is no time for a dispute of this sort; for
whenever you are talking of marriage, I am thinking
of hanging.
POLLY. And hast thou the heart to persist in disowning me?
MAC. And hast thou the heart to persist in persuading me that I am married? Why, Polly, dost thou
seek to aggravate my misfortunes?
LUCY. Really, Miss Peachum, you do but expose
yourself; besides, 'tis barbarous in you to worry a
gentleman in his circumstances.
AIR-POLLY.
Cease your funning,
Force or cunning
Never shall my heart trepan;
All these sallies,
Are but malice,
To seduce my constant man.
'Tis most certain,
By their flirting,
Women oft have envy shown;
Pleas'd to ruin




BEGGAR'S OPERA.


55


Others' wooing,
Never happy in their own!
Decency, madam, methinks, might teach you to behave
yourself with some reserve to the husband, while his
wife is present.
MAC. But seriously, Polly, this is carrying the joke
a little too far.
LUCY. If you are determined, madam, to raise a
disturbance in the prison, I shall be obliged to send
for the turnkey, to show you the door. I am sorry,
madam, you force me to be so ill-bred.    o
POLLY. Give me leave to tell you, madam, these
forward airs don't become you in the least, madam;
and my duty, madam, obliges me to stay with my
husband, madam.
AIR-(Good Morrow Gossip Joan.)
Lucy. Why, how now, madam Flirt?
If you thus must chatter,
And are for flinging dirt,
Let's try who best can spatter,
Madam Flirt?
Polly. Why, how now, saucy jade?
Sure the wench is tipsy;
How can you see me made          [To him.
The scoff of such a gipsy?
Saucy jade. [To her.
Enter PEACHUM. L.
PEACH. Where's my wench? Ah, hussy, hussy!
Come home, you slut! and when your fellow is hanged,
hang yourself, to make your family some amends.
POLLY. Dear, dear father! do not tear me from
him-I must speak-I have more to say to himOh, twist thy fetters about me, that he may not haul
me from thee.
PEACH. Sure, all women are alike! if ever they
commit one folly, they are sure to commit another




56              BEGGAR'S OPERA.
by exposing themselves. Away-not a word more!
You are my prisoner now, hussy.
AIR-POLLY.-(Irish howl.)
No pow'r on earth can e'er divide,
The knot that sacred love hath tied;
When parents draw against our mind,
The true-love's knot, they faster bind.
Oh, oh, ray, oh Amborah-Oh, oh, &c.
[Holding MACHEATH, PEACHUM pulling her.
[Exeunt PEACHUM and POLLY. L.
MAC. I am naturally compassionate, wife, so that I
could hot use the wench as she deserved, which made
you at first suspect there was something in what she
said.
LucY. Indeed, my dear, I was strangely puzzled.
MAC. If that had been the case, her father would
never have brought me into this circumstance-No
Lucy, I had rather die, than be false to thee.
Lucy. How happy am I, if you say this from your
heart! for I love thee so, that I could sooner bear to
see thee hanged, than in the arms of another.
MAC. But couldst thou bear to see me hanged?
LucY. Oh, Macheath! I could never live to see
that day.
MAC. You see, Lucy, in the account of love, you
are in my debt. Make me if possible, love thee more,
and let me owe my life to thee. If you refuse to
assist me, Peachum and your father will immediately
put me beyond all means of escape.
LucY. My father, I know, hath been drinking hard
with the prisoners, and I fancy he is now taking his
nap in his own room. If I can procure the keys,
shall I go off with thee, my dear?
MAC. If we are together, 'twill be impossible to lie
concealed. As soon as the search begins to be a little




BEGGAR'S OPERA.


57


cool, I will send to thee; till then, my heart is thy
prisoner.
LUCY. Come, then, my dear husband, owe thy life
to me; and, though you love me not, be grateful.
But that Polly runs in my head strangely.
MAC. A moment of time may make us unhappy for
ever.
AIR-LUCY.-(The Lass of Patie's Mill.)
I, like the fox, shall grieve,
Whose mate hath left her side:
Whom hounds, from morn to eve,
Chase o'er the country wide.
Where can my lover hide?
Where cheat the weary pack?
If love be not his guide,
He never will come back.      [Exeunt.


C




58             BEGGAR'S OPERA.
ACT III. —   SCENE I-Newgate.
LOCKIT and LucY. R.
LOCKIT. To be sure, wench, you must have been
aiding and abetting to help him to this escape?
LUCY. Sir, here hath been Peachum, and his daughter Polly, and, to be sure, they know the ways of
Newgate as well as if they had been born and bred
in the place all their lives. Why must all your suspicion light upon me?
LOCKIT. Lucy, Lucy, I will have none of these
shuffling answers?
LUCY. Well, then, if I know any thing of him, I
wish I may be burned.
LOCKIT. Keep your temper, Lucy, or I shall pronounce you guilty.
LUCY. Keep your's, sir-I do wish I may be burned,
I do, and what can I say more to convince you?
LOCKIT. Did he tip handsomely?-How much did
he come down with?-Come, hussy, don't cheat your
father, and I shall not be angry with you.-Perhaps
you have made a better bargain with him than I could
have done-How much, my good girl?
LUCY. You know, sir, I am fond of him, and would
have given money to have kept him with me.
LOCKIT. Ah, Lucy! thy education might have put
thee more upon thy guard: for a girl, in the bar of
an alehouse, is always besieged.
LUCY. If you can forgive me, sir, I will make a fair
confession, for, to be sure, he hath been a most barbarous villain to me!
LOCKIT, And so, you have let him escape, hussyhave you?
LUCY. When a woman loves, a kind look, a tender
word, can persuade her to any thing, and I could ask




BEGGAR'S OPERA.


59


no other bribe. Notwithstanding all he swore, I am
now fully convinced, that Polly Peachum is actually
his wife-Did I let him escape, fool that I was! to go
with her? Polly will wheedle herself into his money;
and then Peachum will hang him, and cheat us both.
LOcKIT. So I am to be ruined, because, forsooth.
you must be in love!-a very pretty excuse!
LUCY. I could murder that impudent, happy strumpet!-I gave him his life, and that creature enjoys
the sweets of it-Ungrateful Macheath!
AIR —LUY.-(South sea ballad.)
My love is all madness and folly;
Alone I lie,
Toss, tumble, and cry,
What a happy creature is Polly!
Was e'er such a wretch as I?
With rage I redden like scarlet,
That my dear inconstant varlet,
Stark blind to my charms,
Is lost in the arms,
Of that jilt, that inveigling harlot,
Stark blind, &c.
This, this my resentment alarms.
LOCKIT. And so, after all this mischief, I must stay
here to be entertained with your caterwauling, Mistress Puss!-Out of my sight, wanton strumpet!You shall fast and mortify yourself into reason, with
now and then, a little handsome discipline to bring
you to your senses. Go! [Exit LucY. L.] Peachum,
then, intends to outwit me in this affair; but I'll be
even with him! The dog is leaky in his liquor, so
I'll ply him that way, get the secret from him, and
turn this affair to my own advantage. LucyEnter LUCY. L.
Are there any of Peachum's people now in the house?




BEGGAR'S OPERA.


LUCY. Filch, sir, is drinking a quartern of strong
waters in the next room with Black Moll.
LOCKIT. Bid him come to me.     [Exit LuCY. L.
Enter FILCH. L.
Why, boy, thou look'st as if thou wert half starvedlike a shotten herring. But, boy, canst thou tell me
where thy master is to be found?
FILCH. At his lock, sir, at the Crooked Billet.
LOCKIT. Very well-I have nothing more with you.
[Exit FILCH. L.j I'll go to him there, for I have many
important affairs to settle with him, and in the way of
those transactions, I'll get artfully into his secret-so
that Macheath shall not remain a day longer out of
my clutches.                            [Exit, R.
Enter Lucy. L.
LUCY. Jealousy, rage, love and fear, are at once
tearing me to pieces.  How am    I weather-beaten
and shattered with distresses!
AIR-LucY.-(One evening having lost my way.)
I'm like a skiff on the ocean tost,
Now high, now low, with each billow borne,
With her rudder broke and her anchor lost,
Deserted and all forlorn.
While thus I lie rolling and tossing all night,
That Polly lies sporting on seas of delight!
Revenge, revenge, revenge,
Shall appease my restless sprite.
I have the ratsbane ready-I run no risk; for I can
lay her death upon the gin, and so many die of that
naturally, that I shall never be called in question.But say I were to be hanged-I never could be hanged
for any thing that would give me greater comfort
than the poisoning that slut.
Enter FILCH. L.
FILCH. Madam, here's Miss Polly come to wait




BEGGAR'S OPERA.


61


upon you.
Lucy. Show her in.
FILCH. Tumble up, Miss Polly.  [Exit FILCH, L.
Enter POLLY. L.
Lucy. Dear madam! your servant. I hope you will
pardon my passion when I was so happy as to see you
last-I was so overturned with the spleen, that I was
perfectly out of myself; and really when one hath the
spleen, every thing is to be excused by a friend.
AIR-Lucy. (Now Roger, I'll tell thee because thou'rt
my son.)
When a wife's in the pout,
(As she's sometimes, no doubt)
The good husband, as meek as a lamb,
Her vapours to still,
First grants her her will,
And the quieting draught is a dram.
Poor man, and the quieting draught is a dram.
I wish all our quarrels might have so comfortable a
reconciliation.
POLLY. I have no excuse for my own behaviour,
madam, but my misfortunes-and really, madam, I
suffer too upon your account.
Lucy. But, Miss Polly, in the way of friendship,
will you give me leave to propose a glass of cordial to
you?
POLLY. Strong waters are apt to give me the headache-I hope, madam, you will excuse me?
Lucy. Not the greatest lady in the land could have
better in her closet for her own private drinking. You
seem mighty low in spirits, my dear.
POLLY. I am sorry, madam, my health will not
allow me to accept of your offer. I should not have
left you in the rude manner I did when we met last,
madam, had not my papa hauled me away so unex



BEGGAR'S OPERA


pectedly. I was indeed somewhat provoked, and
perhaps might use some expressions that were disrespectful-but really, madam, the Captain treated me
with so much contempt and cruelty, that I deserved
your pity rather than your resentment.
LUCY. But since his escape, no doubt, all matters
are made up again. Ah! Polly, Polly, 'tis I am the
unhappy wife, and he loves you as if you were only
his mistress.
POLLY. Sure, madam, you cannot think me so
happy as to be the object of your jealousy. A man
is always afraid of a woman who loves him too well.
So that I must expect to be neglected and avoided.
LUCY. Then our cases, my dear Polly, are exactly
alike: both of us indeed have been too fond. Indeed,
my dear Polly, we are both of us a cup too low; let
me prevail upon you to accept of my offer.
AIR-LucY.-(Come, sweet lass.)
Come, sweet lass,
Let's banish sorrow,
Till to-morrow;
Come, sweet lass,
Let's take a chirping glass.
Wine can clear
The vapours of despair,
And make us light as air;
Then drink and banish care.
I can't bear, child, to see you in such low spirits-and
I must persuade you to what I know will do you good
-I shall now soon be even with the hypocritical
strumpet. [Aside].                      [Exit. R.
POLLY. All this wheedling of Lucy can't be for
nothing-at this time, too, when I know she hates
me! The dissembling of a woman is always the forerunner of mischief. By pouring strong waters down




BEGGAR'S OPERA.


my throat she thinks to pump some secrets out of me
-I'll be upon my guard, and won't taste a drop of
her liquor, I'm resolved.
Re-enter Lucy, with Strong Waters.
LucY. Come, Miss Polly.
POLLY. Indeed, child, you have given yourself
trouble to no purpose-You must, my dear, excuse me.
Lucy. Really, Miss Polly, you are as squeamishly
affected about taking a cup of strong waters as a lady
before company. I vow, Polly, I shall take it monstrously ill if you refuse me.
POLLY. I protest, madam, it goes against meWhat do I see! Macheath again in custody!-now
every glimmering of happiness is lost! [Drops the glass.
Enter LOCKIT, MACHEATH, and PEACHUM. R.
LOCKIT. Set your heart at ease, Captain -You
have neither the chance of love or money for another
escape, for you are ordered to he called down upon
your trial immediately.
PEACH. Away, hussies! This is not a time for a
man to be hampered with his wives-you see the
gentleman is in chains already.
LucY. 0 husband, husband! my heart longed to
see thee, but to see thee thus, distracts me.
POLLY. Will not my dear husband look upon his
Polly? Why hadst thou not flown to me for protection? with me thou hadst been safe.
DUET-(The last time I came o'er the Muir.)
Polly. Hither, dear husband, turn your eyes!
Lucy. Bestow one glance to cheer me.
Polly. Think, with that look, thy Polly dies.
Lucy.   Oh, shun me not, but hear me!
Polly. 'Tis Polly sues,
Lucy.         'Tis Lucy speaks.
Polly. Is thus true love requited?




64


BEGGAR'S OPERA.


Lucy. My heart is bursting.
Polly.          Mine, too, breaks.
Lucy.   Must I       --
Polly.         Must I be slighted?
MAC. What would you have me say, ladies? You
see this affair will soon be at an end, without my disobliging either of you.
PEACH. But the settling of this point, Captain,
might prevent a law-suit between your two widows.
AIR-MACHEATH-(TOm Tinker's my true love, 8Sc.)
Which way shall I turn me? how can I decide?
Wives, the day of our death, are as fond as a bride.
One wvife is too much for most husbands to hear,
But two at a time there's no mortal can bear.
This way, and that way, and which way I will,
What would comfort the one, t'other wife would take ill.
POLLY. But if his own misfortunes have made him
insensible to mine, a father, sure, will be more compassionate!-Dear, dear sir! sink the material evidence, and bring him off at his trial-Polly, upon her
knees, begs it of you.
AIR-POLLY. Kneeling to Peachum. (I am apoor Shepherd, undone.)
When my hero in court appears,
And stands arraign'd for his life,
Then think of poor Polly's tears,
For ah, poor Polly's his wife.
Like the sailor he holds up his hand,
Distress'd, on the dashing wave;
To die a dry death at land,
Is as bad as a watery grave.
And alas, poor Polly;
Alack, and well-a-day:
Before I was in love,
Oh, ev'ry month was May.
PEACH. Set your heart at rest, Polly, your husband
is to die to-day; therefore, if you are not already




BIEGAR'S OPERA.


65


provided, 'tis high time to look about for another.
here's comfort for you, you slut.     [Old Bailey.
LOCKIT. We are ready, sir, to conduct you to the
AIR-MACHEATH.-(Bonny Dundee.)
The charge is prepar'd, the lawyers are met,
The judges all rang'd, (a terrible show;)
I go undismay'd, for death is a debtA debt on demand, so take what I owe.
Then farewell, my love-dear charmers adieu;
Contented I die-'tis the better for you.
Here ends all dispute, for the rest of our lives,
For this way, at once, I please all my wives.
Now gentlemen, I am ready to attend you. [Exeunt.
LOCKIT and MAC. R.]  [PEACH. POLLY and LucY. L.
SCENE II.-Another part of the prison.-A dance of
prisoners in fetters.
SCENE III.-The Condemned Hold-MACHEATH in
a melancholy posture.
AIR-(Happy Groves).
Oh, cruel, cruel, cruel case;
Must I suffer this disgrace?
AIR-(Of all the girls that are so smart.)
Of all the friends in time of grief,
When threatening death looks grimmer,
Not one so sure can bring relief,
As this best friend, a brimmer. [Drinks.
AIR-(Britons strike home.)
Since I must swing-I scorn, I scorn to whince or whine.
AIR-(Chevy Chace.)           [Rises.
But now again my spirits sink,
I'll raise them high with wine.  [Drinks a glass of wine.
AIR-(To old Sir Symon, the King.)
But valour the stronger grows,
The stronger the liquor we're drinking,
And how can we feel our woes,
When we've lost the trouble of thinking?  [Drinks.




66


BEGGAR'S OPERA.


AIR-(Joy to Cesar.)
If thus a man can die,
Much bolder with brandy.
[Pours out a bumper of brandy.
AIR.-(There was an old Woman, 8-c.
So I take off this bumper-and now I can stand the test,
And my comrades shall see that I die as brave as the best
AIR-(Did you ever hear of a gallant Sailor.)
But, I can leave my pretty hussies,
Without one tear or tender sigh?
AIR-(Why are mine eyes thus flowing?)
Their eyes, their lips, their busses,
Recall my love-Ah! must I die?
AIR-(Green Sleeves.)
Since laws were made for every degree,
To curb vice in others, as well as in me,
I wonder we ha'n't better company
Upon Tyburn tree.
But gold, from law, can take out the sting.
And if rich men, like us, were to swing,
'Twould thin the land, such numbers to string
Upon Tybum tree.
Enter GAOLER. L.
GAOLER. Some friends of yours, Captain, desire to
be admitted-I leave you together.       [Exit. L.
Enter BEN BUDGE, and MAT o' the MINT.
MAC. For my having broke prison, you see, gentlemen, I am ordered for immediate execution. The
Sheriff's officers, I believe, are now at the door.
That Jemmy Twitcher should 'peach me, I own, surprised me. 'Tis a plain proof that the world is all
alike, and that even our gang can no more trust one
another than other people; therefore, I beg you,
gentlemen, to look well to yourselves, for in all probability you may not live many months longer.
MAT. We are heartily sorry, Captain, for your




BEGGAR'S OPERA.


67


misfortune, but 'tis what we must all come to.
MAC. Peachum and Lockit, you know, are infamous
scoundrels-their lives are as much in your power, as
your's are in theirs-Remember your dying friend'tis my last request. Bring those villains to the gallows before you, and I am satisfied.
MAT. We'll do it. Good-bye, but damn it, die game.
Enter GAOLER. L.
GAOLER. Miss Polly and Miss Lucy entreat a word
with you.                               [Exit, L.
MAC. Gentlemen, adieu! [Exit BEN BUDGE& MAT. L.
Enter LUCY, and POLLY. L.
MAC. My dear Lucy! my dear Polly! whatsoever
hath passed between us is now at an end.
TRIo-(All you that must take a leap, 8fC.)
Lucy. Would I might be hang'd!
Polly.         And I would so too!
Lucy. To be hang'd with you.
Polly.            My dear, with you.
Mac. Oh, leave me to thought! I fear, I doubt,
I tremble-I droop!-See, my courage is out!
[Turns up the empty glass.
Polly. No token of love?
Mac.            See, my courage is out!
[Turns up the empty bottle.
Lucy. No token of love?
Polly.        Adieu!
Lucy.         Farewell!
Mac. But hark! I hear the toll of the bell.
Enter GAOLER.
GAOLER. Four women more, Captain, with a child
a-piece.
MAC. What! four wives more! this is too muchHere, tell the Sheriff's officers I am ready. [Exeunt L.
MOB. [Within] A reprieve! a reprieve!




68             1BEGGAR'S OPERA.
Re-enter MACHEATH, POLLY. LUCY. -C. fC. L1
MAC. So, it seems, I am not left to my choice, but
must have a wife at last-Lookye, my dears, we will
have no controversy now. Let us give this day to
mirth, and I am sure she who thinks herself my wife
will testify her joy by a dance.
ALL. Come, a dance! a dance!
MAC. Ladies, I hope you will give me leave to
present a partner to each of you; and I take Polly
for mine-and for life, you slut, for we are really
married.                    [Exit LUCY, crying, L.
AIR-(Lumps of Pudding, &c.)
Thus I stand, like a Turk, with my doxies around,
From all sides, their glances his passion confound;
For black, brown, and fair, his inconstancy bums,
And the different beauties subdue him by turns:
Each calls forth her charms, to provoke his desires,
Though willing to all, but with one he retires;
Then think of this maxim, and put off all sorrow,
The wretch of to-day may be happy to-morrow.
Chorus. Then think of this maxim, &c.
CURTAIN FALLS.


WILLOUGHBY & CO., PRINTERS, 109, GOSWELL STREET.




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Bio. "This mad-brain'd bridegroom took him such a cuff,
'That down fell priest and 'book, and book and priest:




S. A K ES PL E A L, E' S
KArTHARINE AND PETRUCHIIO,
A CO MEDY;
TAKEN BY
DAVID    GARRICK
FROM
TI71E TAIMING OF A SHREW.
1LIUSTRATKD WITH ORIGINAL DESIGNS BY
ROBERT C RUIKSHANK,
ENGRAVED BY
P. C R I KSHANK, KIC I NER AND WRI GH T.
WITH INTRODUCTORY REMARKS.
LONDON:
JOSEPH THOMAS, 1, FINCH LANE, CORNHILL.
SOLD BY SIMPKIN AND MARSHALL, STATIONERS' COURT.


1838.




WILLOUGIHBY & CO., PIXNTERS, 109, (tO.;WELL STREET.




DAVID Garrick had no more to do with the authorship of
" Katharine and Petruchio," than in altering it from
Shakespeare's "Taming of a Shrew," which although
highly comic in its humour, and filled with numerous
beauties, had been long thrown aside by the managers of
our theatres.
Dr. Johnson, says of the original comedy, that "its two
plots are so well united that they can hardly be called two
without injury to the art with which they are interwoven."
We differ however with the learned critic, so far as to
think that the untwisting of the said plots has greatly
added to the value of the play as an acting drama; and
that by judicious retrenchment, alteration and transposition, it has gained much more in regularity than it has
lost in the variety he so highly praises.
Garrick has in our opinion executed his task with much
skill and fidelity; preserving all the spirit of his great
original, yet never deviating from, or adding to his words,
while the knowledge which he possessed of theatrical
conduct, and scenic effect, has gone far to render the piece
the stock favorite it continues to be.
Malone assigns the date of 1606, to the " Taming of a
Shrew," and supposes it to be the twenty-ninth dramatic
production of our immortal bard; who, as appears to have
been no uncommon practice with him, not having the
fear of "Serjeant Talfourd's Bill" before his eyes, to
furnish him with Legal Hints on Dramatic Etiquette,
founded it on a piece of the same name, entered on the
books of Stationers' Hall, the 24th of May, 1594, as a
" Pleasant conceited Historie, called the Taming of a
Shrew." This old play is variously attributed; but that
it was popular would appear from a work published in
1596, by Sir John Harrington, who says, "read the
booke of Taming of a Shrew, which hath made a number
of us so perfect, that now every one can rule a shrew in
our country, save he that hath her."




Vi                       COSTM E.
The oldest edition of Shakespeare's play, is the folio of
1623, but a quarto edition was published in 1631. It has
formed the foundation of several later pieces as " Sawney
the Scot," brought out by Lacy in 1698; Charles Johnson's
" Cobbler of Preston," produced in 1716, and Garrick's
" Katharine and Petruchio," first acted at Drury Lane in
1756. The induction to the Taming of a Shrew, which is
omitted in the following play, has been traced to an old
ballad in the Pepysian library, called " The Frolicksome
Duke or the Tinker's good fortune," 1570, black letter;
and finally to the Arabian tale of " The Sleeper Awakened."
In  1647, Beaumont and Fletcher published, "The
Woman's Prize, or the Tamer Tamed," in which Petruchio is subdued by a second wife.                  J. T.
Qbaractero ann CEo0tume.
PETRUCHIO.-White kerseymere shape dress. Cloak of the same
trimmedwith scarlet and green. Black velvet sword belt, white tights
and shoes. Black hat and white feathers. Second dress. White
dimmity body with blue sleeves, red breeches, leather sword belt, old
gloves, odd boots, broken-hilted sword, hat and red feathers.
BAPTISTA.-Blue velvet dress spangled with crimson puffs, red
scarlet stockings, shoes. White hat and feathers.
HORTENSIO.-Brown and pink Spanish dress. Hat and boots,
white tights.
MUSIC MASTER.-A light blue Romaldo dress, with dark blue
sleeves, white pantaloons and boots.
GRUMIO. Brown jacket drab binding and red stockings, black
breeches mock mended, yellow binding, russet shoes.
BIONDEl 1O & PEDRO.-Blue and crimson livery, short breeches,
crimson stockings, white shoes.
TAILOR.-Black jacket, light blue breeches, scarlet stockings, red
night-cap, small cloak.
SIX SERVAN' S.-Green and yellowliveries.
COOK.-White cotton jacket, cap and apron.
FOUR GENTS.-Romaldo shirts. White tights. Hats and feathers.
Russet boots.
KATHARINE.-White satin dress, pink vandykes. Second dress.
Blue cloak and petticoat covered with mud.
BIANCA.-Pink satin dress. Black vandykes.
CURTIS.-Dark brown dress. Black vandykes.
FOUR LADIES.-Pink and white train dresses.
~_tage rirections.
R. means Right.-L. Left.-C. Centre.
The lines distinguished by inverted commas (") are omitted in the
representation.




KATHARINE AND PETRUCHIO.
ACT I.
SCENE-BAPTISTA'S House.-A Hall.
Enter BAPTISTA, PETRUCHIO. L.-" and GRUMIO, who
waits behind."
BAP. Thus have I, 'gainst my own self-interest,
Repeated all the worst you're to expect
From my shrewd daughter, Katharine:-if you'll
venture,
Maugre my plain and honest declaration,
You have my free consent, win her and wed her.
PET. Signior Baptista, thus it stands with me.
Antonio. my father, is deceas'd:
You knew him well, and, knowing him, know me,
Left solely heir to all his lands and goods,
Which I have better'd, rather than decreas'd:
And I have thrust myself into the world,
Haply to wive and thrive, as best I may.
My business asketh haste, old Signior,
And every day I cannot come to woo:
Let specialities be therefore drawn between us,
That covenants may be kept on either hand.




8


KATHARINE AND PETRUCHIO.


BAP. Yes, when the special thing is well obtain'd,
My daughter's love; for that is all in all.
PET. Why that is nothing; for I tell you, father,
I am as peremptory, as she proud-minded;
And where two raging fires meet together,
They do consume the thing that feeds their fury.
Though little fire grows great with little wind,
Yet extreme gusts will blow out fire and all;
So, I to her, and so, she yields to me;
For I am rough, and woo not like a babe.
" GRU. Nay, look you, Sir, he tells you flatly what
his mind is. Why, give him gold enough, and marry
him to a puppet, or an old trot with ne'er a tooth in
her head. Though she have as many diseases as two
and fifty horses,-Why, nothing comes amiss, so
money comes withal.-You know him not."
BAP. And will you woo her, Sir?
PET. Why come I hither, but to that intent?
Think you, a little din can daunt my ears?
Have I not, in my time, heard lions roar?
Have I not heard great ordnance in the field,
And Heaven's artillery thunder in the skies?
Have I not, in a pitched battle, heard
Loud 'larums, neighing steeds, and trumpets' clang?
And do you tell me of a woman's tongue;
That gives not half so great a blow to hear,
As will a chestnut in a farmer's fire?Tush, tush! fear boys with bugs.
BAP. Then, thou'rt the man,
The man for Katharine, and her father too;
That shall she know, and know my mind at once.
I'll portion her above her gentler sister,
New-married to Hortensio:








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JBAP. khow now, my friend, why dost thou look so pale?




KATHARINE AND PETRUCHIO.


11


" And, if, with scurril taunt, and squeamish pride,
She make a mouth, and will not taste her fortune,
I'll turn her forth to seek it in the world;
Nor henceforth shall she know her father's doors."
PET. Say'st thou me so? Then, as your daughter,
Signior,
Is rich enough to be Petruchio's wife;
Be she as curst as Socrates' Xantippe,
She moves me not a whit.-Were she as rough,
As are the swelling Adriatic seas,
I come to wive it wealthily in Padua.
If wealthily, then happily, in Padua.
BAP. Well may'st thou woo, and happy be thy
speed
But be thou arm'd for some unhappy words.
PET. Ay, to the proof; as mountains are for winds
That shake not, though they blow perpetually.
[KATHARINE and the M1usic-master make a Noise
without. R. H.]
MAS. Help! help!
KAT. Out of the house, you scraping fool.
PET. What noise is that?
BAP. 0, nothing; this is nothing.My daughter, Katharine, and her music-master,
This is the third I've had within this month:
She is an enemy to harmony.
Enter Music-master, A. H. with his Forehead bloody,
and a broken Lute in his Hand, crosses to L. H.
How now, mv friend, why dost thou look so pale?
MAs, lor' fear, I prornisce you, if I do look pale.




12        KATHARINE AND PETRUCHIO.
BAP. What, will my daughter prove a good musician?
MAS. I think, she'll sooner prove a soldier;
Iron may hold with her, but never lutes.
BAP. Why, then, thou canst not break her to the
lute?
MAS. Why, no; for she hath broke the lute to me.
I did but tell her, she mistook her frets,
And bow'd her hand to teach her fingering,
When, with a most impatient devilish spirit,
Frets call you them?-quoth she,-I'll fret your
fool's cap:
And, with that word, she struck me on the head,
And through the instrument my pate made way;
And there I stood, amazed for awhile,
As on a pillory, looking through the lute:
While she did call me rascal-fidler,
And twangling-jack, with twenty such vile terms,
As she had studied to misuse me so.
PET. Now, by the world, it is a lusty wench;
"I love her ten times more than e'er I did."
0, how I long to have a grapple with her!
MAS. I would not have another grapple with her,
To purchase Padua: for what is past,
I'm paid sufficiently: if, at your leisure,
You think my broken fortunes, head and lute,
Deserve some reparation, you know where
To enquire for me; and so, good gentlemen,
I am your much
Disorder'd, broken-pated, humble servant.
[Exit Music-master. L.
BAP. What, are you mov'd Pctruchio? Do you flinch?




KATHARINE AND PETRUCHIO.


PET. I'm more and more impatient, Sir; and long
To be a partner.in these favourite pleasures.
BAP. 0, by all means, Sir.-Will you go with me,
Or shall I send my daughter Kate to you?
PET. I pray you do, I will attend her here.
[Exit BAPTISTA. R.
"Grumio, retire, and wait my call within
[Exit GRUMIO. L."
Since that her father is so resolute,
I'll woo her with some spirit, when she comes:Say, that she rail,-why then, I'll tell her plain,
She sings as sweetly as a nightingale;Say, that she frown,-I'll say, she looks as clear
As morning roses, newly wash'd with dew:If she do bid me pack, I'll give her thanks,
As though she bade me stay by her a week;If she deny to wed, I'll crave the day
When I shall ask the bans, and when be married.
[KATHARINE and BAPTISTA without. R.]
KAT. Sir,-father,-surely —
BAP. Hence, Kate!-ne'er tell me.
PET. 0, here she comes,-and now, Petruchio,
speak.
Enter KATHARINE R. crosses to L.
KAT. How? Turn'd adrift, nor know my father's
house?
Reduc'd to this, or none? the maid's last prayer?
Sent to be woo'd, like bear unto the stake?
Trim wooing like to be!-and he the bear;
For I shall bait him.-Yet, the man's a man.




14         KATHARINE AND PETRUCHIO.
PET. Kate in a calm?-Maids must not be wooers,
Good morrow, Kate; for that's your name I hear.
KAT. Well have you heard, but impudently said:
[crosses to R.]
They call me Katharine, that do talk of me.
PET. You lie, in faith; for you are called plain
Kate,And bonny Kate,-and sometimes Kate the curst.
But, Kate,-the prettiest Kate in Christendom,Take this of me, Kate of my consolation.Hearing thy mildness prais'd in every town,
Thy virtues spoke of, and thy beauty sounded,
Thy affability, and bashful modesty,
Yet not so deeply as to thee belongs,
Myself am mov'd to woo thee for my wife.
KAT. Mov'd in good time! Let him that mov'd
you hither,
Remove you hence: I knew you at the first,
You were a moveable.
PET. A moveable! Why, what's that?
KAT. A joint-stool.
PET. Thou hast hit it: come sit on me.
[bends on one knee.]
KAT. Asses are made to bear, and so are you.PET. Women are made to bear, and so are you.Alas, good Kate, I will not burden thee;
For, knowing thee to be but young and light,KAT. Too light, for such a swain as you to catch.
[going, crosses to L.]
PET. Come, come, vou wasp; i'faith, you are too
ingry.








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PET. I swear, I '1l cuff you if you strike again.



KATHARINE AND PETRUCHIO.


171


KAT. If I be waspish, best beware my sting.
PET. My remedy then is, to pluck it out.
KAT. Ay, if the fool could find it where it lies.
PET. The fool knows where the honey lies, sweet
Kate.
KAT. 'Tis not for drones to taste.
PET. That will I try.[Offers to kiss her.-She strikes him.]
I swear I'll cuff you, if you strike again.Nay, come, Kate, come: you must not look so sour.
KAT. How can I help it, when I see that face?
But I'll be shock'd no longer with the sight.
[Going, crosses to R.]
PET. Nay, hear you, Kate; in sooth, you 'scape
not so.
KAT. I chafe you, if I tarry; let me go.
PET. No, not a whit; I find you passing gentle:
'Twas told me, you were rough, and coy, and sullen;
But now I find report a very liar:
Thou canst not frown, thou canst not look askance,
Nor bite the lip, as angry wenches will,
Nor hast thou pleasure to be cross in talk:
But thou with mildness entertain'st thy wooers,
With gentle conference, soft and affable.
KAT. This is beyond all patience:[Walks backwards andforwards.]
Don't provoke me!
PET. Why doth the world report that Kate doth
limp?
OQ slanderous world! Kate, like the hazel-twig,




18       KATHARINE AND PETRUCHIO.


Is straight, and slender, and as brown in hue
As hazel-nuts, and sweeter than the kernels.Thou dost not limp.-So, let me see thee walk:
Walk, walk, walk.
KAT. [She stops. R:] Go, fool, and whom thou
keep'st command.
PET. Did ever Dian so become a grove,
As Kate this chamber, with her princely gait?
0, be thou Dian, and let her be Kate,
And then let Kate be chaste, and Dian sportful!
KAT. Where did you study all this goodly speech?
PET. Study!It is extempore, from my mother-wit.
KAT. A witty mother, witless else her son.
PET. Am I not wise?
KAT. Yes, in your own conceit;
Keep yourself warm with that, or else you'll freeze.
PET. Or rather, warm me in thy arms, my Kate!
And therefore, setting all this chat aside,
Thus, in plain terms,-your father hath consented
That you shall be my wife; your dowry 'greed on;
And will you, nill you, I will marry you.
KAT. Whether I will or no?-0, fortune's spite!
PET. Nay, Kate, I am a husband, for your turn;
For, by this light, whereby I see thy beauty,
Thy beauty that doth make me love thee well,
Thou must be married to no man but me;
For I am he, that's born to tame you, Kate.
KAT. That will admit dispute, my sauc)y groom.
PET. Here comes your father: never make denial;
I must, and will, have Katharine to my wife.
Enter BAPTISTA. R.
BAP. Now, Signior, now,-how speed you with
nmyv dauighter?




K(ATIHARINE AND PETRtICIIO.     1


19


PET. How should I speed, but well, Sir? How, but
well?
It were impossible, I should speed amiss.
BAP. Why, how now, daughter Katharine? in
your dumps?
KAT. Call you me daughter? Now, I promise you,
You've show'd a tender fatherly regard,
To wish me wed to one half lunatic:
A mad-cap ruffian, and a swearing jack,
That thinks with oaths to face the matter out.
BAP. Better this jack than starve; and that's your
portion,PET. Father, 'tis thus: yourself, and all the world
That talk'd of her, have talked of her amiss;
If she be curst, it is for policy;
For she's not froward, but modest as the dove;
She is not hot, but temperate as the morn;
For patience, she will prove a second Grissel:
And, to conclude, we 'greed so well together,
We've fix'd to-morrow for the wedding day.
KAT. I'll see thee hang'd to-morrow, first.-Tomorrow!
BAP. Petruchio, hark:-she says, she'll see thee
hang'd first.
PET. What's that to you?
If she and I be pleas'd, what's that to you?
'Tis bargain'd 'twixt us twain, being alone,
That she shall still be curst in company.
KAT. [Aside] A plague upon his impudence! I'm
vex'dI'll marry my revenge, but I will tame him.
PET. I tell you, 'tis incredible to believe
How much she loves me. 0, the kindest Kate!




20         KATHARINE AND PETRUCHIO.
She hung about my neck, [Kate greatly enraged] and
kiss on kiss
She vy'd so fast, protesting oath on oath,
That, in a twink, she won me to her love.
0, you are novices! 'Tis a world to see
How tame, when men and women are alone.
Give me thy hand Kate. [crosses to c.]-I will now
away,
To buy apparel for my gentle bride.
Father, provide the feast, and bid the guests.
BAP. What dost thou say, my Katharine? Give
thy hand.
KAT. Never to man shall Katharine give her hand,
Here 'tis,-and let him take it, an he dare.
PET. Were it the fore-foot of an angry bear,
I'd shake it off; but, as it's Kate's, I kiss it.
KAT. You'll kiss it closer, ere our moon be wan'd.
BAP. Heaven send you joy, Petruchio!-'tis a
match.
PET. Father, and wife, adieu! I must away,
[crosses to L.]
Unto my country-house, and stir my grooms,
Scour off their country rust, and make'em fine,
For the reception of my Katharine.
We will have rings, and things, and fine array,To-morrow, Kate, shall be our wedding-day.
[Exit PETRUCHIO. L.]
BAP. Well, daughter, though the man be somewhat
wild,
And thereto frantic, yet his means are great:
Thou hast done well to seize the first kind offer;
For, by thy mother's soul, 'twill be the last.




KATHARINE AND PETRUCHIO.          21
" KAT. My duty, Sir, hath follow'd your command.
BAP. Art thou in earnest? Hast no trick behind?
I'll take thee at thy word, and send to invite
My son-in-law, Hortensio, and thy sister,
And all our friends, to grace thynuptials, Kate."
[Exit BAPTISTA. L.
KAT. Why, yes; sister Bianca now shall see,
The poor abandon'd Katharine, as she calls me,
Can make her husband stoop unto her lure,
And hold her head as high, and be as proud,
As she, or e'er a wife in Padua.
As double as my portion be my scorn!
Look to your seat, Petruchio, or I throw you:
Katharine shall tame this haggard; or, if shefails,
Shall tie her tongue up, and pare down her nails.
[Exit. R.


END OF ACT I.




22


KATHARINE AND PETRUCHIO.


ACT II.
SCENE I.-BAPTISTA'S IHouse.-A Hall.
Enter KATHARINE, BAPTISTA, HORTENSIO, BIANCA.
Gentlemen and Ladies. L.
BAP. Signior Hortensio, this is the appointed day,
That Katharine and Petruchio should be married;
And yet we hear not of our son-in-law.
What says Hortensio to this shame of our's?
KAT. No shame but mine; I must, forsooth, te
forc'd
To give my hand, oppos'd against my heart,
Unto a mad-brain rudesby, full of spleen,
Who woo'd in haste, and means to wed at leisure.
Now must the world point at poor Katharine,
And say, Lo! there is mad Petruchio's wife,
If it would please him come, and marry her.
BIA. Such hasty matches seldom end in good.
Hon. Patience, good Katharine, and Bianca too?
Upon my life, Petruchio means but well,
Whatever fortune stays him from his word:
Though he be blunt, I know him passing wise;
Though he be merry, yet withal he's honest.
KAT. Would I had never seen his honestyO! I could tear my flesh for very madness.
[Exit KATHARINE. R.
BAP. Follow your sister, girl, and comfort her,
[Exit BIANCA. R.
I cannot blame thee now, to weep and rage;




KATHARINE AND PETRUCHIO.


23


For such an injury would vex a saint;
Much more a shrew of thy impatient humour.
Enter BIONDELLO. L.
Bio. Master, master, news; and such news as you
never heard of.
BAP. Is Petruchio come?
Bio. Why, no, Sir.
BAP. What then?
Bio. He is coming: But how? Why, in a new
hat, and an old jerkin; a pair of old breeches, thrice
turn'd: a pair of boots that have been candle-cases,
one buckled, another lac'd; an old rusty sword, ta'en
out of the town-armoury, with a broken hilt, and
chapeless: His horse hipp'd with an old mothy saddle
the stirrups of no kindred; besides, possess'd with the
glanders, and like to mose in the chine, troubled with
the lampass, infected with the farcy, full of windgalls,
sped with spavins, raied with the yellows, past cure
of the fives, stark spoil'd with the staggers, begnawn
with the bots, sway'd in the back, and shouldershotten, near-legg'd before: and with a half-check'd
bit, and a head-stall of sheep-leather, which, being
restrain'd, to keep him from stumbling, hath been
often burst, and now repair'd with knots; one girt
six times piec'd, and a woman's crupper of velure,
which hath two letters for her name, fairly set down
in studs, and, here and there, piec'd with packthread.
BAP. Who comes with him?
Bio. 0, Sir, his lacquey, for all the world caparison'd like the horse; with a linen stock on one leg,
and a kersey boot-hose on the other, garter'd with a
red and blue list; an old hat, and the humour of




24       KATHARINE AND PETRUCHIO.


forty fancies prick'd upon it for a feather;-A mon.
ster, a very monster, in apparel; and not like a christian foot-boy, or a gentleman's lacquey.
[PETRUCHIO without. L. Smacking a Whip]
PET. Hollo! Holla!        [Exit BIONDELLO. R.
BAP. I am glad he is come, howsoe'er he comes.
Enter PITRUCHIO, and GRUMIO, L. fantastically habited
PET. Hoa!-Where be these gallants? Who is at
home?
BAP. You're welcome, Sir.
PET. Well am I come then, Sir.
BAr. Not so well 'parell'd, as I wish you were.
PET. Why, were it better, I should rush in thus.But where is Kate? Where is my lovely bride?How does my father? Gentles, methinks, you frown:
And wherefore gaze this goodly company,
As if they saw some wonderous monument,
Some comet, or unusual prodigy?
BAP. Whv, Sir, you know this is your wedding
day:
First we were sad, fearing you would not come?
Now sadder, that you come so unprovided.
Fy! doff this habit, shame to your estate,
An eye-sore to our solemn festival.
HoR. And tell us, what occasion of import
Hath all so long detain'd you from your wife;
And sent you hither so unlike yourself.
PET. Tedious it were to tell, and harsh to hear:
Let it suffice, I'm come to keep my word.
But where is Kate? I stay too long from her:
The morning wears; 'tis time we were at church.




KATHARINE AND PETRUCHIO.


25


HOR. See not your bride in these unreverend robes;
Go to my chamber, put on clothes of mine.
PET. Not I, believe me; thus I'll visit her.
BAP. But thus, I trust, you will not marry her.
PET. Goodsooth, even thus; therefore ha' done
with words:
To me she's married, not unto my clothes:
Could I repair what she will wear in me,
As I could change these poor accoutrements,
' Twere well for Kate, and better for myself.
But what a fool am I, to chat with you,
When I should bid good-morrow to my bride,
And seal the title with a loving kiss!
What ho! my Kate! my Kate!
[Exit PETRUCH10. R. Cracking his whip.
GRTJ. What ho! why Kate! why Kate!
[Exit GRUMIO. R Cracking his whip.
"HOR. He hath some meaning in this mad attire.
BAP. Let's after him, and see the event of this."
[Exeunt. R.
SCENE II.-Another Chamber.
Enter GRUMIO. R.
Gnu. He's gone swearing to church with her. I
would sooner have led her to the gallows. If he can
but hold it, 'tis well:-and if I know any thing of
myself and my master, no two men were ever born
with such qualities to tame women.-When madam
goes home, we must look for another-guise master
than we have had. We shall see old coil between
' em.-If I can spy into futurity a little, there will
be much clatter among the moveables, and some
c




26       KATHARINE AND PETRUCHIO.


practice for the surgeons.-By this, the parson has
given 'em his license to fall together by the ears.
Enter PEDRO hastily. H.
PEa. Grumio, your master bid me find you out,
and speed you to his country-house, to prepare for
his reception; and, if he finds not things as he expects'em, according to the directions that he gave
you, you know, he says, what follows. This message
he deliver'd before his bride, even in her way to
church, and shook his whip in token of his love.
GRU. I understand it, Sir; and will convey the
same token to my horse immediately, that he may
take to his heels, in order to save my bones, and his
own ribs.               [Exit GRUMIO running. L.
PED. SO odd a master, and so fit a man,
Were never seen in Padua before.
Enter BIONDELLO hastily. R,
Now, Biondello, came you from the church?
Bio. As willingly as e'er I came from school.
PED. And is the bride, and bridegroom, coming
home?
Bio. A bridegroom, say you? 'Tis a groom, indeed,
A grumbling groom: and that the girl shall find.
PED. Curs'der than she? Why, 'tis impossible.
Blo. Why, he's a devil:-a devil?-a very fiend.
PED. Why, she's a devil:-a devil?-the devil's
dam.
Bio. Tut! she's a lamb, a dove, a fool, to him.
I'll tell you, brother Pedro. When the priest
Should ask, if Katharine should be his wife,
Ay, by gogs-wounds, quoth he: and swore so loud,




KATHARINE AND PETRUCHIO.


27


That, all amaz'd, the priest let fall his book;
And, as he stoop'd to take it up again,
This mad-brain'd bridegroom took him such a cuff,
That down fell priest and book, and book and priest:
Now take them up, quoth he, if any list.
PED. What said the wench, when he rose up again?
Bio. Trembled and shook:-for why?-He stamp'd
and swore,
As if the vicar went to cozen him.
But, after many ceremonies done,
He calls for wine:-A health, quoth he;-as if
He'd been aboard carousing to his mates
After a storm:-quafft off the muscadel,
And threw the sops all in the sexton's face;
Having no other cause, but that his beard
Grew thin and hungerly, and seem'd to ask
His sops, as he was drinking. This done, he took
The bride about the neck, and kiss'd her lips
With such a clamorous smack, that, at the parting,
All the church echo'd: and I, seeing this,
Came thence for very shame; and after me
I know the rout is coming.-(Music without. R.)
Hark, hark, I hear the minstrels play.Such a mad marriage never was before.
[Exeunt PEDRO and BIONDELLO. L.
[Music. R.]
Enter Gentlemen, Ladies, BIANCA, HORTENSIO, BAPTISTA, PETRUCHIO, singing and dancing, KATHARINE, Ladies and Gentlemen. R.
PET. Gentlemen and friends, I thank you for your
pains;



28       KATHARINE AND PETRUCHIO.


I know, you think to dine with me to-day,
And have prepar'd great store of wedding-cheer;
But, so it is, my haste doth call me hence;
And, therefore, here I mean to take my leave.
BIA. Is't possible, you will away to-night?
PET. I must away to-day, before night come.
Make it no wonder; if you knew my business,
You would entreat me rather go, than stay.
And, honest company, I thank you all,
That have beheld me give away myself
To this most patient, sweet, and virtuous wife:
Dine with my father, drink a health to me,
For I must hence, and farewell to you all.
HOR. Let me entreat you, stay till after dinner.
PET. It may not be.
BIA. Let me entreat you, that my sister stay;
"I came on purpose to attend the wedding,
And pass this day in mirth and festival."
PET. It cannot be.
KAT. Let me entreat you.
PET. I am content.
KAT. Are you content to stay.
PET. I am content, you shall entreat my stay;
But yet, not stay, entreat me how you can.
KAT. Now, if you love me, stay.
PET. My horses, there! What, ho, my horses, there!
KAT. Nay then,
Do what thou canst, I will not go to-day;
No, nor to-morrow! nor till I please myself.
The door is open, Sir: there lies your way;
You may be jogging, while your boots are green;
For me, I'll not go, till I please myself.'Tis like, you'll prove a jolly surly groom,




KATHARINE AND PETRUCHIO.


To take it on you at the first so roundly. [crosses to L.]
BAP. Nay, Kate, content thee: 'Pr'ythee, be not
angry.
KAT. I will be angry --
Father, be quiet; he shall stay my leisure.
" Hon. Ay, marry, Sir, now it begins to work."
KAT. Gentlemen, forward to the bridal dinner.
I see a woman may be made a fool,
If she had not a spirit to resist.  [crosses to R.]
PET. They shall go forward, Kate, at thy command.
Obey the bride, you that attend on her;
Go to the feast, revel and domineer;
Be mad and merry, or go hang yourselves;
But, for my bonny Kate, she must with me.Nay, look not big, nor stamp, nor stare, nor fret,
I will be master of what is mine own;
She is my goods, my chattels; she is my house,
My household-stuff, my field, my barn,
My horse, my ox, my ass, my any-thing:
And here she stands, touch her whoever dare.
I'll bring my action on the proudest he
That stops my way in Padua.-[Baptista draws his
sword] -Petruchio,
Draw forth thy weapon, thou'rt beset with thieves;
[Petruchio draws]
Rescue thy wife then, if thou be a man.Fear not, sweet wench; they shall not touch thee,
Kate;
I'll buckler thee against a million, Kate.
[Exeunt KATHARINE and PETRUCHIO. L.
followed by all the Company,]




30        KATHA-RINE AND PETRUCH[O.
SCENE    III.-Petruchio's Country-house.-A Hall.
Enter GRUMIO. L.
GRU. What, hoa!-Curtis!-Fy, fy on all jades,
and all mad masters, and all foul ways? Was ever
man so beaten? Was ever man so ray'd? Was ever
man so weary? I am sent before, to make a fire; and
they are coming after, to warm them-Curtis!-Now
were I not a little pot, and soon hot, my very lips
might freeze to my teeth, ere I should come by a
fire to thaw me; but I, with blowing the fire shall
warm myself; for, considering the weather a taller
man than I will take cold.-Holla, hoa, Curtis!
Enter CURTIS. R.
CUR. Who is it that calls so coldly?
GRU. A piece of ice: if thou doubt it, thou may'st
slide from my shoulder to my heel, with no greater a
run but my head and my neck.-A fire, good Curtis.
CuR. Is my master and his wife coming, Grumio?
GRU. 0, ay, Curtis, ay; and therefore, fire, fire.
Cast on no water.
CUR. Is she so hot a shrew as she's reported?
GRu. She was, good Curtis, before the frost; but,
thou know'st, winter tames man, woman, and beast:
-where's the cook?   Is supper ready, the house
trimm'd, the serving-men in their best clothes, and
every officer his wedding garments on? Be the Jacks
fair within? the Jills fair without? Carpets laid, and
every thing in order?
CUR. All ready: and therefore, I pray thee, what
news?
GRU. First, know, my horse is tir'd; my master




KATHARINE AND PETRUCHIO.


31


and mistress fallen out,CUR. How?
GRU. Out of their saddles into the dirt; and thereby hangs a tale.
CUR. Let's ha't, good Grumio.
GRU. Lend thine ear.
CUR. Here.
GRU. There.-[Boxes her ear.]
CUR. This is, to feel a tale, not to hear a tale.
GRU. And therefore, 'tis call'd a sensible tale: and
this cuff was but to knock at your ear, and beseech
listening. Now I begin: Imprimis, we came down a
foul hill, my master riding behind my mistress,
CUR. Both on one horse?
GRU. What's that to thee? Tell thou the tale.
But, hadst thou not crost me, thou should'st have
heard how her horse fell, and she under her horse;
thou should'st have heard in how miry a place; how
she was bemoil'd; how he left her with the horse
upon her; how he beat me because her horse stumbled;
how she waded through the dirt to pluck him off me;
how he swore, how she pray'd,-that never pray'd
before!-how I cry'd; how the horses ran away; how
her bridle was burst, how I lost my crupper; how
my mistress lost her slippers, tore and bemir'd her
garments, limp'd to the farm-house, put on Rebecca's
old shoes and petticoat; with many things worthy of
memory, which now shall die in oblivion, and thou
return unexperienc'd to thy grave.'
CUR. By this reckoning, he is more shrew than she.
GRU. Ay, for the nonce;-and that thou and the
proudest of you all shall find, when he come home.But what talk I of this? Call forth Nathaniel, Gabriel,




32       KATHARINE AND PETRUCHIO.


Gregory, Adam, Walter, Ralph, and the rest.-Are
they all ready?
CUR. They are.-Do you hear, ho!-Nathaniel
Gabriel, Gregory,-where are you?
Enter NATHANIEL, GABRIEL, GREGORY, ADAM,
WALTER, and RALPH R.
NAT. Welcome home, Grumio.
GAB. HOW now, Grumio?
GRE. What, Grumio!
ADA. Fellow Grumio!
WAL. How now, old lad!
RAL. Ha, Grumio!
GRU. Welcome you: How now, you: What you:
Fellow you:-and thus much for greeting.-Now,
my spruce companions, is all ready, and all things
neat?
NAT. All things are ready. How near is our master?
GRU. Even at hand: alighted by this; and therefore be not —
[PETRUCHIO without. L.]
PET. Holloa!
GRU. Cock's passion! Silence; I hear my master.
Enter PETRUCHIO and KATHARINE. L.
PET. Where are these knaves? What, no man at
the door,
[CURTIS, helps her off with her Fardingale and goes
out. R.]
To hold my stirrup, nor to take my horse?
Where is Nathaniel, Gregory, Adam?
All the servants. Here, Sir; here, Sir; here, Sir.
PET. Here, Sir; here, Sir; here, Sir;
"You loggerheaded, and unpolish'd, grooms!




KATHARINE AND PETRUCH10.


What, no attendance, no regard, no duty?"
Where is the foolish knave I sent before?
GRU. Here, Sir, as foolish as I was before.
PET. " Thou peasant swain, thou stupid malt-horse
drudge,"
Did I not bid thee meet me in the park,
And bring along these rascal knaves with thee?
GRU. Nathaniel's coat, Sir, was not fully made;
And Gabriel's pumps where all unpink'd i' the heel:
There was no link to colour Peter's hat,
And Walter's dagger was not come from sheathing:
There were none fine, but Adam, Ralph, and Gregory,
The rest were ragged, old and beggarly:
Yet, as they are, here are they come to meet you.
PET. Go, rascals, go, and fetch my supper in.
GRU. The supper,-the supper.
[Exeunt all the Servants, but GRUMIO. R.
PET. Here, —take my boots off.-Sit down, Kate,
and welcome.Enter the Cook, NATHANIEL, GABRIEL, WALTER,
and RALPH, with the supper, &c. R.
Pull off my boots.-Nay, good sweet Kate, be
merry.Some water for my hands,-some water, Grumio.
[Exit GRUMIO. R.
Enter GREGORY, with Slippers, R.andpulls off his Boots.
PET. [Sings] "It was a fryar of order g''ey,,
"As he walk'd forth upon his way."
Out, out, you rogue! You pluck my foot awry:
Take that, and mind the plucking off the other.
[Beats him.]
Some water here.-Be merry, Kate.-What hoa!
Shall I have some water?




34        KATHARINE AND 1FETRUCHIO.
Enter ADAM with a Basin of Water, running.
[Adam falls, and breaks the Basin.]
You careless villain, will you let it fall?
[Beats him.]
KAT. Patience, I pray you; 'twas a fault unwilling.
PET. A   blundering  beetle-headed,  fap-ear'd
knave!What, ho! my supper.Enter GRUMIO. R.
Gltu. Supper, supper.
PET. Come, Kate, sit down: I know, you have a
stomach.
KAT. Indeed I have:
And never was repast so welcome to me. [They sit down.
PET. Will you say grace, sweet Kate, or else
shall I?What is this?
WAL. Mutton.
PBT. Who brought it?
WAL. He.            [Pointing to RALPH.]
RAL. No; he did.     [Pointing to WALTER.]
PET. 'Tis burnt, and so is all the meat.
Where is the rascal cook?
GRU. Cook, cook,-      [Cook comes forward.]
PET. How durst you, villain, bring it from the
dresser,
And serve it thus to me, that loves it not?
There, take it to you, trenchers, cups and all,
[Throwing the Meat, 8rc. about.]
You heedless jolt-heads, and unmanner'd slaves.What, do you grumble? I'll be with you straight."
[Beats the Servants, till they all run away. R. and L.
KAT. I pray you, husband, be not so disquiet;




iF ;  -
",
, -, "
-           '.! I
I,








KATHARINE AND PETRUCHIO.


37


The meat was well, and well I could have eat,
If you were so dispos'd; I'm sick with fasting'.
PET. I tell thee, Kate, 'twas burnt and dry'd away
And I expressly am forbid to touch it;
For it engenders choler, planteth anger;
And better 'twere that both of us did fast,
Since, of ourselves, ourselves are choleric,
Than feed it with such over-roasted flesh.Be patient; to-morrow it shall be mended:
And, for this night, we'll fast for company.KAT. Fast?-Go to bed without my supper thus?
PET. 'Tis the unwholesom'st thing i'the world,
sweet Kate.Come, I will show thee to thy bridal chamber.
[Exeunt. R.
" Enter GRUMIO, WALTER, RALPH, GABRIEL, NATHANIEL, GREGORY, and ADAM. R.
NAT. Why, Grumio, didst thou ever see the like?
GRU. He kills her in her own humour. I did not
think so good and kind a master could have put on
so resolute a bearing.Enter CURTIS. R.
Where is he, Curtis?
CUR. In her chamber, making a sermon of patience
to her; and all the while he rails, and swears at such
a rate, that she, poor soul, knows not which way to
stand, to look, to speak; but sits as one new-waking
from a dream.-Away, away: for he is coming hither.
[Exeunt. R."
Enter PETRUCHIO. R.
PET. Thus have I, politicly, begun my reign,
And 'tis my hope to end successfully:
As with the meat, some undeserved fault
D




38        KATHARINE AND PETRUCHIO.
I'll find about the making of the bed:
And here I'll fling the pillow, there the bolster,
This way the coverlet, that way the sheets;
Ay, and, amid this hurly, I'll pretend
That all is done in reverend care of her;
And, in conclusion, she shall watch all night:
And if she chance to nod, I'll rail and brawl,
And with the clamour keep her still awake.
This is a way to kill a wife with kindness,
And thus I'll curb her mad and headstrong humour.
He that knows better how to tame a shrew,
Now let him speak, 'twere charity to show. [Exit. R.
END OF ACT II.




KATHARINE AND PETRUCHIO.


39


ACT III.
SCENE.-Petruchio's Country-house,
A Hall.-Table, two Chairs.
Enter GRUMIO and KATHARINE.
GRU. No, no, forsooth; I dare not, for my life.
KAT. The more my wrong, the more his spite appears:
What, did he marry me to famish me?But, that which plagues me more than all thebe wants,
He does it under name of perfect love;
As who would say, if I should sleep or eat,
'Twere deadly sickness, or else present death!I pr'ythee, go, and get me some repast;
I care not what, so it be wholesome food.
GRU. What say you to a neat's foot?
KAT. 'Tis passing good; I pr'ythee, let me have it.
GRU. I fear, it is too phlegmatic a meat:
How say you to a fat tripe, finely boil'd?
KAT. I like it well; good Grumio, fetch it me.
GRU. I cannot tell;-I fear, it's choleric.What say you to a piece of beef and mustard?
KAT. A dish that I do love to feed upon.
GRU. Ay; but the mustard is too hot a little.




40       KATHARINE AND FETRUCHIO.


KAT. Why then, the beef, and let the mustard rest.
GRU. Nay, that I will not; you shall have the
mustard,
Or else you get no beef of Grumio.
KAT. Then both, or one, or any thing thou wilt.
GRU. Why then, the mustard, dame, without the
beef.
KAT. Go, get thee gone, thou false deluding slave,
[Beats him.]
That feed'st me only with the name of meat.
Enter PETRUCHIO. L.
PET. Holloa!-How fares my Kate?
What, sweeting, all amort? Mistress, what cheer?
KAT. 'Faith, as cold as can be.
PET. Pluck up thy spirits; look cheerfully upon me
For now, my honey-love, we are refresh'd,KAT. Refresh'd! With what?
PET. We will return unto thy father's house,
And revel it as bravely as the best,
With silken coats, and caps and golden rings,
With ruffs, and cuffs, and fardingales, and things:Look up, my love:-the tailor stays thy leisure,
To deck thy body with his rustling treasure.Tailor, come in.-[They sit]-PET. L.-KATH. R.
Enter Tailor. L.
Where are these ornaments?
TAI. Here is the cap, your worship did bespeak.
PET. The what? (takes the cap on his whip)




KATHARINE AND PETRUCHtO.


41


TAI. The cap.
PET. Why, this was moulded on a porringer;
A velvet dish: fy, fy, 'tis lewd and filthy:
Why, 'tis a cockle, or a walnut-shell,
A knack, a toy, a trick, a baby's cap.Away with it, and let me have a bigger.
KAT. I'll have no bigger: this doth fit the time;
And gentlewomen wear such caps as these.
PET. [Aside.] When you are gentle, you shall have
one too,"Tis a mere bauble:-say no more about it."
KAT. Why, Sir, I trust, I may have leave to speak,
And speak I will; I am no child, no babe:
Your betters have endur'd me say my mind;
And, if you cannot, best you stop your ears.
PET. Thou say'st true, Kate; it is a paltry cap:
I love thee well, in that thou lik'st it not.
KAT. Love me, or love me not, I like the cap,
And I will have it; or I will have none.
PET. The gown? Why, ay:-come, tailor, let me
see't.0, mercy, Heaven! What masking stuff is here?
What's this? a sleeve? 'Tis like a demi-cannon.
All up and down, carv'd like an apple-tart!
Here's snip and nip, and cut, and slish and slash,
Like to a censer in a barber's shop.
Why, what i' the devil's name, tailor, call'st thou
this?
GRU. [Aside. R.] I see, she's like to 've neither cap
nor gown.
TAI. You bid me make it orderly and well,
According to the fashion of the time.




42       KATHARINE AND PETRUCHIO.


PET. Marry, and did: but, if you be remember'd,
I did not bid you mar it to the time.
Go, hop me over every kennel home;
For you shall hop without my custom, Sir;
Hence, make your best of it; I'll none of it.
KAT. I never saw a better-fashion'd gown,
"More quaint, more pleasing, nor more commendable,"
Belike, you mean to make a puppet of me.
PET. Why, true; he means to make a puppet of
thee.
TAI. She says, your worship means to make a
puppet of her.
PET. 0, most monstrous arrogance!
Thou liest, thou thread, thou thimble,
Thou yard, three-quarters, half-yard, quarter, nail.Thou flea, thou nit, thou winter-cricket, thou!Brav'd in mine own house with a skein of thread!
Away, thou rag, thou quantity, thou remnant;
Or I shall so be-mete thee with thy Tailor's yard,
As thou shalt think on prating while thou liv'st.I tell thee, I, that thou hast marr'd the gown.
TAI. Your worship is deceiv'd; the gown is made
Just as my master had direction:
Grumio gave order how it should be done.
GRU. I gave him no order, I gave him'the stuff.
TAI. But how did you desire it should be made?
GRV. Marry, Sir, with a needle and thread.How should it be made?
TAI. But did you not request to have it cut?
GRU. Though thou hast fac'd many things, face not
me: I say unto thee, I bid thy master cut the gown;
but I did not bid him cut it to pieces: ergo, thou
liest.








NA
%




I.   I                                  11
t-,,.
--     '   '_8 /
- J, I..I- m- -. - -,
GiLu. I am for thee, straight: come on, you parchment shred!



KATHARINE AND PETRUCHIO.


45


TAI. Why, here is the note of the fashion to testify.
PET. Read it.
TAI. Imprimis, a loose-bodied gown.
GRU. Master, if ever I said a loose-bodied gown,
sew me up in the skirts of it, and beat me to death
with a bottom of brown thread:-I said, a gown.
PET. Proceed.
TAI. With a small compass cape.
GRU. I confess the cape.
TAI. With a trunk-sleeve.
GRU. I confess two sleeves.
TAI. The sleeves curiously cut.
PET. Ay, there's the villany.
GRU. Error i' the bill, Sir; error i' the bill:-I commanded the sleeves should be cut out, and sew'd up
again; and that I'll prove upon thee, though thy
little finger be arm'd in a thimble.
TAI. This is true that I say: an I had thee in a
place, thou should'st know it.
GRU. I am for thee, straight: come on you parchment shred!-[They fight.]
PET. What, chickens spar in presence of the kite!
I'll swoop upon you both; out, out, ye vermin!
[PETRUCHIO beats the Tailor off L.-GRUMIO
retires a little behind, laughing at him.]
KAT. For Heaven's sake, Sir, have patience! How
you fright me!                [Crying.]
PET. Well, come, my Katharine; we will now away
To feast and sport us at thy father's house.



46       KATHARINE AND PETRUCHIO.


Go, call my men, and bring our horses out.
[Exit GRUMIO. L.
KAT. 0, happy hearing! Let us straight be gone;
I cannot tarry here another day.
PET. Cannot my Kate? 0, yes; indeed you can.
KAT. Indeed I cannot.
PET. 0, yes, you could my Katharine, if I wish'd it.
KAT. I tell you, I'll not stay another moment.
Enter GRUMIO, running. L.
GRU. The horses, Sir, are ready, and —
PET. Put up.-On second thoughts, 'tis now too
late;
For, look, how bright and goodly shines the moon.
KAT. The moon? the sun:-it is not moon-light
now.
PET. I say, it is the moon that shines so bright.
KAT. I say, it is the sun that shines so bright.
PET. Now, by my mother's son, and that's myself.
It shall be moon, or star, or what I list,
Or ere I journey to your father's house.Go you, and put the horses up again.Evermore crost, and crost! nothing but crost!
[crosses to R.
GRU. [Aside to KAT.] Say as he says; or we shall
never go.              [Exit GRUMIO. L.
KAT. I see, 'tis vain to struggle with my bonds.Sir, be it moon, or sun, or what you please;
And if you please to call it a rush-candle,
Henceforth, I vow, it shall be so for me.




KATHARINE AND PETRUCHIO.


PET. I say, it is the moon that shines so bright.
KAT. I know, it is the moon.
PET. Nay then, you lie; it is the blessed sun.
KAT. Just as you please: it is the blessed sun.
But, sun it is not, when you say it is not;
And the moon changes, even as your mind:
What you will have it nam'd, even that it is,
And so it shall be for your Katharine.
PET. Get out the horses.-Thus the bow shall run,
And not unluckily, against the bias.But soft, some company is coming here,
And stops our journey.
Enter BAPTISTA, HORTENSIO, and BIANCA. L.
Good morrow, gentle mistress! Where away?
Tell me, sweet Kate, and tell me truly too,
Hast thou beheld a fresher gentlewoman?
"What stars do spangle Heaven with such beauty,
As those two eyes become that heavenly face?
Fair lovely maid, once more, good day to thee!"
Sweet Kate, embrace her for her beauty's sake.
BAP. How now?-Embrace me for my beauty's
sake!What is all this?
KAT. [crosses to c.] Young budding virgin, fair and
fresh, and sweet.
Whither away, or where is thy abode?
Happy the parents of so fair a child!
Happier the man whom favourable stars
Allot thee, for his lovely bedfellow!
BAP. What mummery is this?




48         KATHARINE AND PETRUCHIO,
PET. Why, how now, Kate? I hope thou art not,
mad.
This is Baptista, our old reverend father;
And not a maiden, as thou say'st he is.
KAT. Pardon, dear father, my mistaken eyes,
That have been so bedazzled with the —
PET. The sun.
KAT. The sun,
That every thing, I look on, seemeth green;
Now I perceive, thou art my reverend father:
Pardon, I pray thee, for my mad mistaking. [Kneels.]
BAP. Rise, rise, my child. What strange vagary's
this?
I came to see thee, with my son and daughter.
How lik'st thou wedlock? Art not alter'd Kate?
KAT. Indeed I am: almost transform'd to stone.
PET. Chang'd for the better much; art not my
Kate?
KAT. So good a master cannot choose but mend me,
" HOR. Here is a wonder, if you talk of wonders.
BIA. And so it is; I wonder what it bodes.
PET. Marry, peace it bodes, and love, and quiet
life,
And awful rule, and right supremacy;And, to be short, what not, that's sweet and happy?
BIA. Was ever woman's spirit broke so soon!
What is the matter, Kate? Hold up thy head;
Nor lose our sex's best prerogative,
To wish, atd have our will.
PST. Peace, brawler, peace.Or I will give the meek Hortensio,




KATHARINE AND PBTRUCHIO.


Your husband there, my taming recipe.Katharine, I charge thee, tell this headstrong woman,
What duty 'tis she owes her lord and husband.
KAT. Such duty as the subject owes the prince,
E'en such, a woman oweth to her husband.
Thy husband is thy lord, thy life, thy keeper;
One that cares for thee,
And for thy maintenance: commits his body
To painful labour, both by sea and land,
To watch the night in storms, the day in cold,
While thou liest warm at home, secure and safe;
And craves no other tribute at thy hands,
But love, fair looks, and true obedience,
Too little payment for so great a debt.
PET. Well said, my Kate!-You'll learn that lesson,
lady.
BAP. Now joy betide thee, son Petruchio!
And fair befal thee, my now gentle Katharine!Go home with me along, and I will add
Another fortune to another daughter:
For thou art chang'd, as thou hadst never been.
PET. My fortune is sufficient. -Here's my wealth."
Kiss me, my Kate; and, since thou art become
So prudent, kind, and dutiful a wife,
Petruchio here shall doff the lordly husband;
An honest mask, which I throw off with pleasure.
" Far hence all rudeness, wilfulness, and noise,
And be our future lives one gentle stream
Of mutual love, compliance, and regard!"
KAT. Nay, then I'm all unworthy of thy love,
And look with blushes on my former self.How shameful 'tis, when women are so simple,
E




50        KATHARINE AND PETRUCHIO.
To offer war, where they should kneel for peace:
Or seek for rule, supremacy, and sway,
Where bound to love, to honour, and obey!
CURTAIN FALLS.


LONDON:
WILLOtUGIRY & CO., PRINTKRS, 109, GOSWELL STltEHT




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