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POOR VULCAN, A BURLETTA, IN TWO ACTS, AS PEFORMED AT THE THEATRE-ROYAL, IN COVENT-GARDEN.
LONDON: Printed for G. KEARSLEY, No. 46, Fleet-Street, and W. NICOLL, No. 51, St. Paul's Church-Yard. MDCCLXXVII. [Price One Shilling.]
DRAMATIS PERSONAE.
[]MEN.
- Vulcan, Crump,
- Mr. Quick.
- Jupiter, Stud,
- Mr. Mattocks.
- Apollo, Wiſeman,
- Mr. Robſon.
- Mars, Pike,
- Mr. Reinhold.
- Bacchus, Gauge,
- Mr. Battiſhill.
- Adonis, Joe,
- Mr. Leoni.
- Mercury, Drub,
- Mr. Mahon.
WOMEN.
- Venus, Maudlin,
- Miſs Brown.
- Grace,
- Miſs Dayes.
- Huntſmen, Soldiers, Mob, &c.
POOR VULCAN.
[5]ACT I. SCENE I.
A Saloon ſupported by Clouds, with a Table, Bottles, Glaſſes, Bowls, &c. where Bacchus, Jupiter, Apollo, Mars, and Mercury, are ſitting, ſinging Catches and Glees.
CATCH.
JOIN your right hands, to your glaſſes, boys,
And let the bowl go round.
Fill a bumper—higher,
Steady, ſteady,
Let mirth abound.
Charge your glaſſes—poiſe,
Recover! make ready!
Preſent! fire!
[6] RECITATIVE.
JUPITER.
Bravo, my boys! bravo! braviſſimo!
Charming! delightful! exquiſitiſſimo!
Apollo, boy, tip us your manus;
How went our fortes and pianos?
APOLLO.
All right; but, I ſay, bully hector,
Why don't you puſh about the nectar?
BACCHUS.
That's right, my worthies, charge your glaſſes:
Come, give us one of your abſent laſſes.
[To Mars.
MARS.
Here's Venus,
JUPITER.
—Zounds, that's à-propos,
The ſtrangeſt thing's fallen out: d'ye know
Vulcan's gone mad—
MERCURY.
—That's no great wonder,
JUPITER.
'Tis true, or may I never thunder:
Horn mad!
MARS.
[7]—The fool!
MERCUCRY.
—Oh, dear, Oh, dear!
APOLLO.
Tell us the ſtory.
JUPITER.
—You, ſhall hear.
[Takes a petition from his pocket.
AIR.
The humble prayer and petition
Of Vulcan, who his ſad condition,
In hopes of ſatiſfaction meeting,
To the God Jupiter ſends greeting.
That your petitioner has a wife,
The plague and torment of his life;
That prudent, kind, and conſtant wiſhing her,
Humbly ſets forth your ſaid petitioner,
That might they but reſide on earth,
The many ills that hence have birth,
Would then ſubſide, and Mars, Adonis,
And divers others of her cronies,
At diſtance, all his cares might end,
And ſhe, his wife, take up and mend:
To this requeſt don't ſay him nay,
And your petitioner ſhall ever pray.
[8] RECITATIVE.
MARS.
And have you your permiſſion given?
JUPITER.
Yes, yes, they're bundled out of heaven;
The Cyclops—he—one of the graces,
And ſhe, in a ſtage-cloud, took places;
Which diligence ſoon ſet them down
Hard by an Engliſh country town.
I took a twinkle through the ether,
And ſaw them ſettled all together.
ACCOMPANIED.
Vulcan, no more; but, goodman Crump—
Here, you behold his anvil thump;
While Venus, where good ſouls carouſe,
Hight Maudlin, keeps a public houſe.
RECITATIVE.
MARS.
Zounds! to what end?
JUPITER.
—Good bully Mars,
To furniſh ſubject for a farce.
Suppoſe to earth we make deſcent,
And plague them for their diſcontent;
Some mortal ſhape let each aſſume,
MARS.
[9]I'll be a ſerjeant with my drum.
BACCHUS.
I, an exciſeman.
JUPITER.
A country 'ſquire, the ſtag I'll follow,
And echo rouze with whoop and hollow;
Thus Vulcan all his pranks we'll tell of,
And make the black know when he's well off;
But firſt let's roar another chorus,
And drain the nectar that's before us.
GLEE.
Thoſe mortals ſay right, in their jovial abodes,
That a glaſs of good punch is the drink of the gods,
Take only a ſmack of
The nectar we crack of
You'll find it is punch and no more;
The ingredients they mingle,
Are contraries ſingle,
So are ours, they're the elements four.
Then, Bacchus, for thou art the drunkard's protector,
Iſſue inſtant a fiat,
And let who dare deny it,
That nectar's good punch, and that good punch is nectar.
[Exeunt.
SCENE II.
[10]The Skirts of a Country Town; on one Side a Blackſmith's Shop; on the other, a Public Houſe, the ſign of the Horns. Crump and his Men are at Work. Huntſmen behind.
CHORUS AND AIR.
Blackſ.
Strike, ſtrike, ton, ton, ton, ron.
Huntſ.
Sound, ſound, tan, ran, ran, tan.
Blackſ.
Let the hammer reſound,
While we take the ſtroke round,
Ton, ton, ton, ton, ton, ton, ton.
Huntſ.
Let echo reſound
The cry of each hound,
And the horn reply, ta ran, ran ton.
Crump.
Here, Maudlin, Grace, plague take you all,
Till I am hoarſe you make me bawl.
Enter Grace.
Grace.
Lord, Sir, you rouſe us all ſo ſoon—
Crump.
You baggage would you lie 'till noon?
Come, come, beſtir you—light the fire,
'Tis late in the morn,
And the merry horn,
Says we may ſoon expect the 'ſquire.
[Crump goes to the Shop, and Grace to the Houſe
Cho.
Strike, ſtrke, &c.
Re-enter Grace.
Crump.
Grace, is your miſtreſs yet come down;
Tell her I'm going up the town,
But want to ſee her firſt—
Grace.
—I go. Sir.
[A flute heard behind.
Crump.
Hey-day, what piping's that?
Grace.
—'Tis Joe, Sir;
[11]The ſhepherd Joe, who lives juſt here,
He plays ſo charmingly, Oh, dear!
Not better, Sir, pip'd Mercury,
When, one of the ſiſter-graces, I
On Ida with the laughing loves—
Crump.
Peace, jade, and fetch my hat and gloves.
Cho.
Strikle, ſtrike, &c.
RECITATIVE ACCOMPANIED.
CRUMP.
Here, take theſe ſhoes to farmer Swine,
I've heard the folks laugh at that ſign;
And one cried boo: another chuckled,
That's ſure the houſe of ſome old cuckold.
George, go mend farmer Hedgeſtake's plough;
I dream'd laſt night, that on my brow,
Large horns grew out; and then, to-day,
Scarce to the door I'd found my way;
But perch'd upon that tree, my bane,
The cuckoo—Zounds! he's there again.
AIR.
Tell me, am I laugh'd to ſcorn?
Have I on each brow a horn?
This I ſuſpect, and if 'tis true,
Quickly anſwer me—Cuckoo!
I have my cue,
Alas! 'tis true,
Hark, ſhe anſwers me Cuckoo.
[12]II.
That anſwer's yes, the murder's out,
At leaſt I ſhall no longer doubt;
But tell me, if to one or two,
Or more I am oblig'd—Cuckoo!
What more than two?
Alas! 'tis true—
Hark, ſhe anſwers me—Cuckoo!
III.
In vain then do I beat my pate,
A cuckold am I dubb'd by fate,
Behold—here are my antlers—boo!
Am I not right, my friend—Cuckoo!
Then plain to view,
My fears are true;
Hark, ſhe anſwers me—Cuckoo!
RECITATIVE.
To what humility I've buckled!
And ſhall a god be made a cuckold?
That Joe the ſhepherd, all her tone is,
He looks ſmooth-fac'd ſo like Adonis!
Then we've a ſerjeant brings his drums;
A ſportſman too—but here ſhe comes.
[13] Enter Maudlin from the Houſe.
AIR.
Venus now no more behold me,
But an humble village-dame,
Coarſe and homely trappings ſold me,
And miſtreſs Maudlin is my name.
II.
Yet here no leſs is paid that duty,
Ever due to Venus' worth,
Not more inſenſible of beauty,
Than gods in heaven, are men on earth.
RECITATIVE.
MAUDLIN.
Dear Miſter Crump, you make me riſe,
Before I ſcarce have clos'd my eyes.
CRUMP.
Nay, nay, 'tis not ſo ſoon, good mate.
MAUDLIN.
The ſerjeant kept me up ſo late—
CRUMP.
The ſerjeant! ay! ay!
MAUDLIN.
—Hey! how now?
[14]Why, what a grumbling elf art thou?
You're never eaſy, ill nor well;
In heaven you thought yourſelf in hell.
CRUMP.
'Tis true, good wife, and now I curſe
The earth, for ſome place ten times worſe.
MAUDLIN.
I ſee how 'tis, it ſtops the breath o'me,
'Deed, Mr. Crump, you'll be the death o' me;
Your falſe ſuſpicions ſink ſo deep in—
CRUMP.
Dear me, I've ſet my wife a weeping.
AIR.
When I've been working in my ſhop,
You many a time have ſeen me drop
Some water on the doubtful fire,
When I've been, &c, &c.
Which damp'd at firſt, more dead has grown,
But quickly, by the bellows blown,
Has chang'd from brown to duſky red,
Then brighter heat and luſtre ſhed,
And flam'd, and ſparkl'd up the higher.
Which damp'd at firſt, &c, &c.
[15]II.
Thus trickling tears from you that part,
Have often damp'd my doubtful heart,
And quench'd a-while my paſſion's heat;
Thus trickling tears, &c, &c.
But ſoon arous'd by kindling eyes,
I've felt a-new my paſſion riſe,
While ſob and ſigh, and ſigh and ſob,
Have made my boſom throb and throb,
And like ſledge-hammers on it beat.
But ſoon arous'd, &c, &c.
MAUDLIN.
He's off, thank heav'n, a while at leaſt;
Oh, how I loath the filthy beaſt!
Such huſbands! would the devil had 'em!
Here, Grace! I want you.
Enter Grace from the Houſe.
GRACE.
—Coming, Madam.
MAUDLIN.
Grace, loſe no time, but inſtant ſally
To ſhepherd Joe, in yonder valley;
Tell him, I'll come to him the moment
I have eat my dinner.
GRACE.
—What a foment!
Lord, Madam, you're in ſuch a magram!
And all for that poor tatter'd wagram!
[16]If for the 'Squire you made a fuſs,
One ſhould not wonder!
MAUDLIN.
—Saucy puſs!
I tell you, I am ſet upon it;
Go, and put on your cloak and bonnet.
GRACE.
AIR.
I'd have you to know,
Good Madam Venus,
The difference is not ſo great between us;
Men, if you need 'em,
In this land of freedom,
At will, a pretty girl ſecures;
And as for all your airs and graces,
If you come for to go
To talk of faces,
I fancy mine is as good as yours.
You are not with your Jupiters, Ma'am, and your Mars's,
With whom you uſed to play ſuch farces;
You are here in the region of liberty.
So let us have none of your fine commences;
Why, ſurely, good Madam, you've loſt your ſenſes:
For if ſo much you think yourſelf better than me,
I'd have you to know, &c.
[Exit.
RECITATIVE.
MAUDLIN.
The ſaucy baggage! What a clatter!
But privy-counſellors will chatter;
[17]And, faith, in this my ſituation,
She is of ſervice in that ſtation:
For ſcarce had I been twenty hours
On earth, but lovers came in ſhowers.
AIR.
My ſporting 'Squire to keep at bay
The courſe I'll double over;
While he intent
On a wrong ſcent,
Shall always find me ſtole away,
When he cries, Hark, to cover!
II.
With new-coin'd oaths, my grenadier
May think to ſtorm and bluſter,
And ſwear, by Mars,
My eyes are ſtars
That light to love: he'll ſoon find here
Such ſtuff will ne'er paſs muſter.
III.
Thus will I ſerve thoſe I diſtruſt,
Firſt laugh at, then refuſe 'em;
But, Ah! not ſo
The ſhepherd Joe;
He like Adonis look'd, when firſt
I preſs'd him to my boſom.
[Maudlin goes into the Houſe.
[18] Enter 'Squire Stud, Huntſmen with dogs and a dead hare.
STUD.
Hoics, hoics, my boys! Houſe, houſe, here, hey!
Zounds! why, they are all ſtolen away.
Enter Maudlin from the houſe.
MAUDLIN.
Not all, 'Squire; I'm at home, at leaſt.
STUD.
So broke the morning from the eaſt.
MAUDLIN.
For ſhame!
STUD.
—What have you got to eat?
MAUDLIN.
Who's there? Bring hither the cold meat.
STUD.
Do, that's my hearty. And, d'ye hear?
A tankard of my favourite beer.
We'll drink it as we ſit in th' air.
MAUDLIN.
The morning has been pure and fair.
STUD.
[19]As fair and lovely as your face.
MAUDLIN.
Pha! Did it prove a pleaſant chaſe?
What ſtiles and ditches have you paſs'd?
STUD.
I'll tell it you from firſt to laſt.
AIR.
The moment Aurora peep'd into the room,
I put on my cloaths, and I call'd for my groom:
Will Whiſtle by this had uncoupled the hounds,
Who, lively and mettleſome, friſk'd o'er the grounds.
And now we're all ſaddled, fleet Dapple and Grey,
Seem'd longing to hear the glad ſound, Hark, away!
II.
'Twas now, by the clock, about five in the morn,
And we all gallopp'd off to the ſound of the horn;
Jack Gater, Bill Babbler, and Dick at the Gooſe;
When, all of a ſudden, out ſtarts Miſtreſs Puſs.
Men, horſes, and dogs, not a moment would ſtay,
And Echo was heard to cry, Hark, hark away!
[20]III.
The courſe was a fine one, ſhe took o'er the plain,
Which ſhe doubled, and doubled, and doubled again;
'Till at laſt, ſhe to cover return'd out of breath;
Where I, and Will Whiſtle, were in at the death;
Then, in triumph for you, I the hare did diſplay,
And cry'd to the horns, My boys, hark, hark away.
[Exit to the houſe.
Enter Grace.
MAUDLIN.
So, miſtreſs confidence, you're there?
[To Grace.
GRACE.
Yes, Ma'am, I come from you know where;
How can you doat on ſuch a clown!
MAUDLIN.
If you expect that old ſilk gown,
You'll change your tone—you underſtand me;
GRACE.
Ma'am, to be ſure, if you command me;
And now I think on him again,
He is the handſomeſt of men,
His eyes ſo tender are, and bright—
Is it the blue, Ma'am, ſhot with white?
STUD.
[21]Here's that, my boys, ſpeaks all men's lingo;
Maudlin, your health—'Tis rare good ſtingo.
Hey, what the devil's all this drumming!
GRACE.
As ſure as eggs the Serjeant's coming?
Enter Serjeant Pike and Soldiers.
PIKE.
AIR.
Come all you gemmen volunteers,
Of glory who would ſhare,
And leaving with your wives your fears,
To the drum head repair;
Or, to the noble Serjeant Pike,
Come, come, without delay;
You'll enter into preſent pay.
Come, come, the bargain ſtrike;
A golden guinea, and a crown,
Beſides, the lord knows what, renown;
His Majeſty's the donor;
And if you die,
Why then you lie
Stretch'd in the bed of honour.
[22]II.
Does any 'prentice work too hard?
Fine clothes would any wear?
Would any one his wife diſcard?
To the drum head repair.
Or to the, &c.
III.
Is your eſtate put out to nurſe?
Are you a caſt off peer?
Have you no money in your purſe,
To the drum-head repair.
Or to the, &c.
RECITATIVE.
PIKE.
Bring out a flaggon of ſtrong beer—
What, lovely Maudlin, are you there?
May I ne'er conquer, if I bam ye,
You're handſomer than Venus, damme!
STUD.
Have you pretenſions to that lady, Sir?
PIKE.
For love or war, I'm always ready, Sir?
And, ſhould that lady ſay the word,
To anſwer you, I'd draw my ſword.
STUD.
Damme, you'd eat it up as ſoon:
Come, come, friend, you are ſome poltroon!
[23] Enter Crump.
AIR.
[25]Pike.
Poltroon! Damnation! Zounds, unhand me;
Either you villain, eat that word,
Or down your throat I'll cram my ſword.
Squire.
Put by your ſpit, you underſtand me;
And if I do not make you roar,
Louder than e'er did calf before—
Pike.
Let me come at him—blood and thunder,
Be ſure you keep us both aſunder.
Squire.
Let me come at him, I'll ſoon convince him,
Pike.
Damme, I'll cut him to pieces—mince him.
Squire.
Coward!
Pike.
—Hack him.
Squire.
—Braggart!
Pike.
—Hew him!
Squire
Bully!
Pike.
—Tear him!
Squire.
—Scoundrel!
Pike.
—Stew him!
Squire.
Swaggering puppy!
Pike.
—Bang and beat him!
Broil him! fry him! roaſt and eat him.
Crump.
I'll try to get them both well baſted.
[Aſide.
Pray let them go, this time is waſted;
Inſtead of all this prittle prattle,
Let's have a good old Engliſh battle.
Squire.
I'll trim your jacket, Serjeant Swagger.
Crump.
Come form a ring—
[24] Squire.
—Well, are you ready?
Pike.
I never fight before a lady;
But if you'll meet with ſword and dagger,
Or o'er a barrel of gunpowder,
I am your man.
Squire.
—Hark, in your ear,
You'd be, I believe, a little prouder,
To have the barrel full of beer.
Pike.
Sir, I ſhall find a time, and ſoon—
Squire.
Go, you're a cowardly poltroon.
Pike.
Poltroon! &c.
Crump.
See of your conduct, wife, the fruit!
Maud.
Come, come, I'll finiſh the diſpute.
Squire, do you love me?
Squire.
—Tell me, do,
If hounds the timid hare purſue?
Maud.
Then with the Serjeant, o'er a cup,
For my ſake, make the quarrel up.
Serjeant, d'ye love me?
Pike.
—Honour bright!
Far better than I love to fight.
Maud.
Then with the Squire o'er a cup,
For my ſake make this matter up.
You've ſaid, you'll follow my commands,
Without more fuſs then both ſhake hands.
CATCH.
Then ceaſe all bickering,
Pour the liquor in,
Put about the quart,
To make the quarrel up,
Drink a barrel up,
And love the better for't.
END of the FIRST ACT.
POOR VULCAN.
[26]ACT II. SCENE I.
A Rural Proſpect.
Enter Joe.
RECITATIVE.
WHILE thus a ruſtic ſwain I rove,
I envy not the realms above;
What more can Jove himſelf beſtow,
Than what I now enjoy below?
Freedom to chaunt my rural ſtrains,
And ſing my love around the plains.
AIR.
A ſhepherd become, with my pipe and my crook,
What pleaſure to loiter beſide the clear brook;
While careleſsly lying,
Fond birds round me flying,
The ſun's glowing fervor allay'd by the breeze,
Oh! who would forego ſuch enjoyments as theſe!
[27]II.
Ye roſes and woodbinds, ſo ſweetly that bloom,
Preſerve all your charms till my faireſt ſhall come;
With beauty inviting,
With fragrance delighting,
Your brigheſt perfections to greet her diſplay,
Oh! ſay 'tis for her you look lovely and gay.
RECITATIVE.
Enter Maudlin.
JOE.
May hills and dales a plain appear,
If my dear Maudlin is not here;
May ſheep ne'er bleat, nor oxen low—
MAUDILN.
—Nay, nay, no raptures, deareſt Joe;
But come to me at nine at night,
I've manag'd all things for our flight;
When Crump gets drunk, as ſoon he will,
I eaſily can ſeize the till:
But if I ever am forſook—
JOE.
Oh! may I looſe my pipe and crook;
May Cupid break his bow and quiver,
Wither'd be graſs, dry be each river;
May all the ſheep die with the rot,
When Maudlin is by me forgot!
MAUDLIN.
[28]I faithfully believe thee, ſweeting;
But I muſt go—the club is meeting.
JOE.
Ah, Maudlin, Maudlin! that there club
Is in my way a monſtrous rub;
For Pike, and Stud, and all thoſe fellows—
I own it makes me dev'liſh jealous.
AIR in DIALOGUE.
Joe.
When the ſerjeant, encourag'd by wine,
To your lips once preſum'd to advance,
Oh! how did I ſicken and pine,
That you deign'd to beſtow him a glance!
And again, when the 'ſquire from the chace
Returning, beſtow'd you the ſpoil;
From my mem'ry I cannot eraſe,
That the prize you repaid with a ſmile.
Maud.
Ah, my Joey! one day in my place,
(The truth on't you cannot gainſay)
When I ſent my ſuivante, pretty Grace,
You kiſs'd her all on the new hay;
Nay, for ſelfiſh deſigns, dar'd to own,
You pretended a paſſion for me;
But attractions and charms I had none,
For Grace was your favourite ſhe.
[29] Joe.
The charge to be true, I allow,
'Twas to try if you jealous could prove;
For no other purpoſe, I vow,
They alone can be jealous who love.
Maud.
And, for me, if I ſmil'd on the ſquire,
'Twas in hope of the profit in view;
Or from Crump to conceal the fond fire,
Which I bear in my boſom for you.
Both.
We have each other on the hip,
Be jealous then no longer;
But rather let a little ſlip
Tie the knot the ſtronger.
[Exeunt Dancing.
SCENE II.
A Drinking-Room in the Ale-Houſe. A large Table, Bowls, Glaſſes, &c. Pipes and Tobacco. Stud, Pike, Crump, Wiſeman, Drub, Gauge, &c. diſcovered ſitting at a Table.
[Loud Huzzas.
RECITATIVE.
GAGUE.
Silence, order! Order, ſilence!
This plaugy noiſe is heard a mile hence.
[Drinks.
GAUGE.
I knock down order. Here, Miſtreſs Grace,
Bring t'other bowl. Come, pretty-face,
Drink all our healths.
GRACE.
[30]—No, no, dear 'ſquire;
My Miſtreſs, bid me, Sir, deſire,
You'd preſently come to her.
STUD.
Huſh!
Gemmen, the bowl about let's puſh.
Here's love and opportunity!
PIKE.
Well, child, what ſays the lovely ſhe?
GRACE.
She'll ſee you, Sir, after the club.
PIKE.
I'll come, and beat, love, rub-a-dub.
GAUGE.
What going, 'ſquire!
STUD.
—I muſt be jogging.
GAUGE.
Nay, pr'ythee, toſs off t'other noggin.
STUD.
'Tis little hours—
GAUGE.
[31]—But 'tis fair weather.
One craſh, and we all go together.
AIR.
Gauge.
Let every man now give his toaſt,
Fill up the glaſs, I'll tell you mine;
Wine is the miſtreſs I love moſt,
This is my toaſt—now give me thine.
II.
Wiſeman.
Well ſaid, my lad, ne'er let it ſtand,
I give you Chloe, nymph divine;
May love and wine go hand in hand,
This is my toaſt—now give me thine.
III.
Stud.
Fill up your glaſſes to the brink,
Hebe let no one dare decline;
'Twas Hebe taught me firſt to drink,
This is my toaſt—now give me thine.
IV.
Crump.
Gemmen, I give my wife, dy'e ſee,
May all to make her bleſt combine;
So ſhe be far enough from me,
This is my toaſt—now give me thine.
[32]V.
Pike.
Let conſtant lovers at the feet
Of pale-fac'd wenches, ſigh and pine,
For me, the firſt kind girl I meet
Shall be my toaſt—now give me thine.
VI.
Drub.
You toaſt your wife, and you your laſs,
My boys, and welcome, here's the wine;
For my part, he who fills my glaſs
Shall be my toaſt—now give me thine.
VII.
Gauge.
Spirit, my lads, and toaſt away,
I have ſtill one with yours to join;
That we may have enough to pay,
This is my toaſt—now give me thine.
CHORUS, and exeunt.
SCENE III.
A Gallery of Bed-Chambers.
Enter Maudlin and Grace.
GRACE.
Your orders are obey'd.
MAUDLIN.
—Already?
GRACE.
I told the 'ſquire—
MAUDLIN.
—Well, and what ſaid he?
GRACE.
[33]Why, Ma'am, he ſaid, he'd ſhortly follow,
And give his Maudlin the view-hollow.
MAUDLIN.
And pray, what news from Serjeant Bluff?
GRACE.
When I had ſpoke, cries he—Enough;
The ſignal is thy lady's charms,
And I'll be inſtant under arms!
But now, good miſtreſs of mine,
If I may aſk, What's your deſign?
When you're gone off, (Lord, who can tell!)
My maſter may like me as well.
MAUDLIN.
Take him; thou'rt welcome, I am ſure.
GRACE.
Well, deareſt me! that will be pure!
AIR.
To ſhine in the bar, all drawn out in my beſt!
To be told I am handſome by every gueſt!
To be civil to all, and yet liſten to none!
And when making a bill out, to ſcore two for one!
And if told of the error, though ever ſo ſmall,
Break off with—Dear me! did not ſomebody call?
Lord bleſs me, where are all my people hum-drumming!
I muſt e'en go myſelf—Coming, coming, Sir, coming.
II.
When a company comes in, on veniſon to dine,
Be ſure after dinner to ſet the beſt wine:
But when they, once in for't, begin to be merry,
Inſtead of Champagne, ſend up cyder or perry.
And if told of the error, &c.
[34]III.
In ſhort, with a pattern like you for my guide,
I ſhall ſcore well, and cater, and ſtore, and provide,
Taking care ſtill to put ſomething by on the ſhelf,
Give my maſter one half, and take t'other myſelf.
And if told of the error, &c.
[Exit.
RECITATIVE.
MAUDLIN.
The wench will do, I ſee—But hark,
What noiſe is that!—The Squire i'th'dark.
Enter Serjeant Pike.
RECITATIVE.
PIKE.
Ha! my divinity, art thou there!
Thouſands of loves my hearts enſnare;
In ſhort, like Sweden's king at Bender,
O'ercome by numbers, I ſurrender.
MAUDLIN.
Well, get you into number ſeven—
But you'll be true.
PIKE.
—I will, by heaven!
MAUDLIN.
Do you then love to that degree?
PIKE.
I'd hang! I'd drown! I'd ſtarve for thee!
Count all the ſhot that fly in battle;
Count all the ſtrokes on drums that rattle;
Count every flaſh; count every pop;
Count all the groans, the wounds!—Stay, ſtop;
Count!—Damme, I've no more by heart!
I ſay, Ma'am, metaphor apart,
I love you more than life, believe me.
MAUDLIN.
[35]And will you, Serjeant, ne'er deceive me?
PIKE.
AIR.
Madam, you know, my trade is war;
And what ſhould I deny it for?
Whene'er the trumpet ſounds from far,
I long to hack and hew;
Yet, Madam, credit what I ſay,
Were I this moment call'd away,
Were all the troops drawn in array,
I'd rather ſtay with you.
II.
Did drums and ſprightly trumpets ſound,
And death and carnage ſtalk around;
Did dying horſes bite the ground,
And we no hope in view;
Was the whole army loſt in ſmoke,
Were they the laſt words that I ſpoke,
I'd ſay, and damme if I joke,
I'd rather ſtay with you.
III.
Did the foe charge us front and rear;
Did ev'n the braveſt face appear
Impreſs'd with ſigns of mortal fear;
Though never veteran knew
So terrible and hot a fight;
Though all my laurels it ſhould blight,
Though I ſhould loſe ſo fine a ſight,
I'd rather ſtay with you.
[Exit.
[36] Enter Joe.
RECITATIVE.
MAUDLIN.
Now ſtir not for your life!—So, ſo—
What noiſe is that? 'Tis my ſweet Joe.
Make, deareſt love, what haſte you're able,
And take two horſes from the ſtable.
This key, I fancy, will unlock it,
And I've ſome money in my pocket.
JOE.
AIR.
What are Plutus' gilded toys,
What, compar'd to Love's rich joys!
Toys that worldly mortals prize,
Souls of ſiner ſenſe deſpiſe;
Free together let us rove,
Heart for heart, and love for love.
II.
Free from tumult, frowns and ſtrife,
Free from all that burthens life,
Blythely let us ſeek the plains
Where eternal pleaſure reigns;
Free together let us rove,
Heart for heart, and love for love.
[Exeunt.
SCENE IV.
Enter Crump.
RECITATIVE.
Here, Maudlin! Grace! what are you doing?
I'm ſure there is ſome miſchief brewing;
Upon the ſtairs I met the Squire,
And Grace cried—Mount, Sir, one pair higher.
Then, as below I cloſe kept ſentry,
The Serjeant glided through the entry—
[37]Was ever uſuage half ſo ſcurvy!
They turn my houſe here topſy-turvy!
I will no longer bear this raillery:
But ſee a light comes through the gallery.
Enter Grace.
Here Grace; i'th' dark this hour I've grop'd.
Where is my wife?
GRACE.
—Sir, ſhe's elop'd.
CRUMP.
Elop'd—elop'd! and have I then
Left gods to be thus uſed by men?
Adieu, my forge, the anvil's clangor,
The red-hot iron's fiery anger!
Ye one-eyed Cyclops! Aetna's roar!
For Vulcan's occupation is no more.
AIR.
O! that a gem'man ſhou'd thus be ty'd
Unto a vixeniſh wanton wife!
I wou'd in heaven that ſhe had died,
And never ſeen this life.
Flirting, flirting, flirting;
Sporting, ſporting, ſporting;
Courting, courting, courting;
All, all by turns:
With Stud, or with Pike,
Coquetting alike;
While this poor little head
Dreams nightly in bed,
Of ſomething here that burns and burns,
And feels like ſprouting horns.
GRACE.
[38]Lord, Sir, don't take it ſo to heart;
Was I as you are, for my part,
I'd let her go for one more kinder.
CRUMP.
That's true, indeed; but where to find her!—
GRACE.
And you don't know? A likely ſtory!
Sir, ſhe I ſpeak of ſtands before you.
CRUMP.
Will you then on me take compaſſion?
GRACE.
Yes to be ſure, Sir, 'tis the faſhion,
When Madam ſuch a trick has play'd.
The huſband always takes the maid.
CRUMP.
AIR.
Let thundering Jove lead a boiſterous life,
Out-thunder'd each hour by the voice of his wife;
Like a Harlequin, let him, diſguis'd, play the fool,
A ſwan, or a whirlwind, a crow, or a bull;
Of ſuch ſhifts in no need, of no wife's tongue afraid,
Hereafter, I mean to take up with my maid.
II.
Henceforth, then my wife may parade through the ſkies,
Like nymphs in the Strand to pick up ſome new prize,
Of Mars and Adonis and Jove at the call,
For now, thank my ſtars, I have done with them all.
Of your tricks and your fancies no longer afraid,
Good-night, all ye gods!—I'll to bed with my maid.
[As he is going towards a chamber with Grace, a clap of thunder is heard.
[39] RECITATIVE.
Why, what the devil's this I wonder?
[Thunders.
Nearer and nearer comes the thunder,
Some plot againſt me I'll lay odds!
SCENE the laſt.
Changes to the Saloon, where all the Gods and Goddeſſes are diſcovered.
CRUMP.
My rib aagin, by all the gods!
GODS and GODDESSES.
Ha, ha, ha, ha!—
CRUMP.
—I ſmell a rat,
A pretty game they have been at!
JUPITER.
How, maſter Crump! What don't you know,
Your old friends, Serjeant Pike, and Joe?
Squire Stud, Ned Gauge, and Maſter Drub,
And all the good folks of the club?
VULCAN.
I've nothing ſor't, but brazen't it out!
[Aſide.
MARS.
Come, come, old boy, you muſt not pout;
'Tis over now; but, pr'ythee, tell us,
Was not you moſt confounded jealous?
Did we not finely fret and ſtew you?
VULCAN.
Ha, ha, ha, by the lord I knew you!
JUPITER.
Well done, old Vulcan, not to flatter,
You put a good face on the matter:
Then what was meant well, well receive,
To men, through you, advice we give:
This little frolic was deſign'd,
A wholeſome leſſon for mankind.
[40]FINALE.
Cho.
Then be content, ye mortal race,
Nor wiſh to change, nor fate, nor place;
You muſt of good and ill have ſhare,
And nature's nature every where.
Jup.
Once on a time, when men complain'd
They were with ills too tightly ſtain'd;
I publiſh'd in a certain town,
That each might lay his burden down,
And take up that, more to his mind,
Some other mortals left behind.
When ſoon (to ſee the ways of men)
Each begg'd to have his own again.
Cho.
Then be content, &c.
Mars.
I heard you once the tale relate,
A ſon took up his dad's eſtate;
But when the youngſter had found out
The packet held old age, the gout,
The rheumatiſm and the ſtone,
He quickly begg'd to have his own;
And ſwore he'd never aſk for wealth,
So he might have again his health.
Cho.
Then be content, &c.
Venus.
A lady too, who at a rout,
(Dire chance!) had dropp'd her falſe teeth out,
O'erwhelm'd with ſhame, ſoon chang'd her lot,
With the poor inmate of a cot;
But when ſhe found, on a ſtraw bed,
She muſt repoſe, and eat brown bread,
Wear a plain coif, and ruſſet gown,
She wanted falſe teeth, and the town.
CHORUS.
Then be content, &c.
FINIS.
- Citation Suggestion for this Object
- TextGrid Repository (2020). TEI. 3532 Poor Vulcan a burletta in two acts as performed at the Theatre Royal in Covent Garden. University of Oxford Text Archive. . https://hdl.handle.net/21.T11991/0000-001A-5A52-3