[]
SONGS IN THE COMIC OPERA OF Tom Thumb the Great.
AS IT IS NOW PERFORMING AT THE MICROCOSM NEAR STEPHEN'S-STREET.
DUBLIN: ARTHUR GRUEBER.
MLCCLXXX.
ADDRESS to the AUDIENCE by PUNCH, on the OPENING of the MICROCOSM.
[]HUZZA! my hearts! our MICROCOSMIC Puppet-Show
Muſt ſtand; ſince foſt'ring friends concur to prop it ſo.—
Let me be hang'd but I'm in perfect extacy,
Such a bright blooming bank of the fair ſex to ſee;
So interſpers'd with beaux, in gay variety,
That it fulfils my wiſh, ev'n to ſatiety.—
For, we, (tho' wooden mimies of humanity)
Are not ſuch blocks as not to feel th' urbanity
Of your obliging readineſs to come to us
In our new edifice, —well, an't it ſumptuous?—
Are not all quondam much-complain'd of grievances
Amply redreſs'd by our well-plann'd contrivances?
Have not our brains been rack'd, and our poor purſes drain'd,
To ſhew that no convenience was by us reſtrain'd?
Have we not built a cover'd way to ſhelter you;
Where no blaſts ruſſie, rains wet, or funs ſwelter you;
A green room,—lucky thought! where lolling, at her caſe,
STELLA may liſten to her STREPHON'S flatteries
And point againſt his heart all her maſqu'd batteries;
Here may of ſcandal-ſpreading prudes forget her awe,
Adjuſt her dreſs, balls, parties, drums—& catera.—
Your entrance to our room laſt year, was odious:
But our new CORRIDOR is quite commodious.
[iv]Our MICROCOSM ſhines with a ſplendid dignity
Which may defy the cavils of malignity,
And flatter us with hopes of your benignity.
Then on the inſide, many faults are mended too,
Things, in no puppet ſhow 'till ours, attended to.—
Obſerve, in true; perſpective, ſtage and gallery,
Not like our former dog-hole, ſqueez'd and all awry:
Obſerve our light arrang'd in order curious,
Nor to the audience or the ſcene injurious.
Obſerve our high-rais'd benches curv'd with ſymmetry,
If any thinks he can outdo us, he may try.—
Ingreſs and egreſs, now, are free and elegant,
What more is wanting?— by my conſcience! tell I can't, —
Save WELCOME:— which I ſnatch this opportunity
Of giving in the name of our community.
Thrice welcome all!—our lib'ral hoſpitality
Is not conſin'd to rank alone, or quality,
To charms or wealth:—(yet if we made a difference)
Such ſurely are entitled to ſome preference.
Our doors are ſhut to none; except ſuch trumpery
As never ought be ſeen in decent company;
With that riff-raff we evermore muſt be at war,
And drive with ignominy from our Theatre.
Plain folks may enter and by ſeated happily;
Unle [...]s they ſhame themſelves by dreſſing ſhabbily.
DECORUM is our guide rever'd, our governor,
Whoſe well-digeſted laws admit no ſloven here.
For if a peer come like a porter jacketed,
Retire he muſt:—tho' up he raiſe his back at it,
And ſorm, and ſume, and bounce, and flounce, and racket it.
All this may ſhew what ſtudious care we have of you;
[v]Now, in return, one favour let us crave of you;
The ladies' caps are riſen to ſuch enormity,
That, far from being a grace, they're a deformity:
(For gauge a modern female's height;—I'll venture on't
Ten guineas that her face is [...]ound the centre on't.)
In ſuch a room as ours they're quite prepoſterous;
A ſenſeleſs nuiſance.—But, I'll not be boiſterous.
No. (kneels) PUNCH upon his knees in all humility,
Implores you, the true patterns of civility,
To lay them by when e'er you deign to viſit us,
'Tis for the common good I'm thus ſollicitous.
Do, lay them by; hide not each other from our view:
Elſe 'tis indifferent whether many come or few.
The kind polite compliance well would ſuit you all
And each would feel the condeſcenſion mutual.
(Turns aſide ſtill kneeling and claſping his hands.)
O Nature! hear my pray'r;—ſubmiſs I aſk your aid
To free your maſter-pieces from this maſquerade;
You form'd them perfect; artleſs you intended them;
But French-frizeurs have, for the worſe, ſince mended them.
Why will they puniſh us who ne'er offended them?
(He riſes and comes forward.)
Nought can be call'd a SHOW, where nought is to be ſeen,
Where ev'ry bodies' light ſome huge head-robe is in.
The eye ſhou'd have free ſcope to rove ad libitum.—
Our ſcenes are fine; but we in vain contribute 'em,
If, only to gauze-caps, we can exhibit 'em.
Suppoſe, the men a fancy took to wear their hats
With the broad leaves ſlouch'd down; enough to ſcare the rats.
Wou'd you not think it rude? and call them Savages
Who, on your comforts, made ſuch horrid ravages?
[vi]But they'll not dare to do it—in this place I mean,
They know there's a point I could diſgrace 'em in
And of my vengeance give the clowns a ſpecimen.—
Now to conclude: if you bring diſpoſitions
Vacant to harmleſs mirth, our exhibitions,
(Devoid of ribaldry and malice ſiniſter
Some food, perhaps, to ſuch light mirth may miniſter:
We our beſt efforts will exert, to coax you here:
And you will candid ſmile when our arch jokes you hear.
You have too much good ſenſe and are too affable
Not to laugh out at what is truly laughable.
You know,—that all our pleaſantries here local are,
That our performances are paſtimes jocular,
To pleaſe the auricular organ and the ocular.
But whoſo comes reſolved on peeviſh criticiſm,
Watching to pick an hole for ſome flat witticiſm,
Smartly with trite Joe Miller's Jeſts to tickle us,
We caution him to curb his gibe ridiculous.
Our ſtage ſhall be no butt, to vent his jeſt upon:
We're thorns, we're thiſtles; we ſhall ſting if preſt upon.
And tho' we ſcorn the ſneers of ſuch wit-coalheavers,
Yet we have Rowlands ready for their Olivers.—
On their defeat we will erect a grand trophy,
Prizing one gen'rous plaudit from philanthrophy
More, than we dread the hiſs of all miſanthrophy.
PROLOGUE.
[]The Curtain riſing, diſcovers Merlin ſitting at a table, covered with black; a large volume inſcribed with magical figures open before him, after a while, he ſhuts the book and ſpeaks.
THE ſpel's wound up,—the myſtic page I cloſe,—
GNOMES, to your poſts!—each elf his ſtation know's.
(Waves his wand, and comes forward, addreſſing the audience.)
To night, the force of MAGIC ſkill to prove,
I mean t'exhibit PUPPETS that can move
Spontaneouſly;—nay more; can ſpeak, can ſing,
Fight,—laugh,—make love,—in ſhort, do any thing;
Endu'd with tranſient life, for ſome three hours,
And, in contracted ſize with human pow'rs
They, for that while, with action, ſpeech and dreſs,
Shall welcome all my friends to this receſs;
Shall cringe, ſhall ſhrug, and ſprawl along the ſtage,
Aping their brother blockheads of the age.
Fear not, how'er, theſe tiny apparations:
I warrant 'em of harmleſs diſpoſitions.—
They ſha'n't approach you nearer than I ſtand:—
(I keep 'em under excellent command;)
Nor be ſurpriz'd at aught they ſay or do:
They're for the time as much alive as you.
[viii]
An OPERA compleat they ſhall diſplay,
That finiſh'd from the heated dawn of day,
The mimic viſions all muſt fade away.—
Then from his wooden ſhall each Sylph retires,
Leaving the ſenſeleſs log,—to kindle fires.
I ſcorn'd to ranſack ancient Greece or Rome
For fable; (we've enough of that at home:
My ſubject is domeſtic: 'tis TOM THUMB.—
His martial proweſs CAESAR'S far exceeded,
THUMB freed his country—(that was more than he did.)
And cou'd have won himſelf a crown if needed.
Giants he quell'd and rebels he ſubdu'd,
Nor in his country's wounds his hands imbru'd;
No; TOM was more than great;—for he was good.—
Let not his ſtature prejudice your mind,
True worth is to no certain ſize confin'd,
The leaſt may be the greateſt of mankind.—
Such the bold heroe, who to-night appears;
He againſt Spaniſh Dons and French Monſieurs,
Was fit to lead brave IRELAND'S VOLUNTEERS.
With ſuch a chieftain, ſoon that valiant hoſt
Would humble GALLIA'S and IBERIA'S boaſt,
And drive the daſtards trembling from our coaſt.
That gallant CORPS' inſatiate thirſt of FAME,
Sanction'd by glorious LIBERTY'S fair name,
Muſt draw,—(what I too hope,) your joint acclaim.
SONGS, &c.
[]ACT I.
AIR I. Duetto. Lady Berkley's Whim.
DOODLE.
SURE ſuch a day,
So renown'd, ſo victorious,
Such a day as this was never ſeen.
Courtiers ſo gay,
And the mob ſo uproarious;
Nature ſeems to wear an univerſal grin.
NOODLE.
Arthur to Dol,
Is bobbiſh and uxorious,
She and Huncamunca fall—to tipple, talking tawdry;
[10]Even Mr. Sol,
So tifted out, ſo glorious,
Shines as at a ball—in jewels and embroidery.
DOODLE.
O! tis a day
Of jubile cajolery;
A day we never ſaw before,
A day of fun and drollery.
NOODLE.
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.
DOODLE and NOODLE.
O 'tis a day &c.
That you may ſay, &c.
DOODLE and NOODLE.
Sure ſuch a day, &c.
Courtiers ſo gay, &c.
AIR II. By ARNE.
SO the cock-ſparrow, at the barn door,
Huge flocks of turkies hops before;
[11]The lubber red-heads ſcornful eyes,
Nor, at their noiſy guggling, ſlies.
AIR III. Lillies of France.
QUEEN.
WHAT, tho' I now am half ſeas o'er,
I ſcorn to baulk this bout.
Of ſtiff-rack punch, fetch bowls, a ſcore,
'Fore George, I'll ſee them out.
II.
But, ſir, your queen 'twould ill become,
T'indulge in vulgar ſips,
No drop of brandy, or of rum,
Shall paſs theſe royal lips.
AIR IV. Carrolan's Rant.
KING ARTHUR.
WHEN a dame of high taſte, and of eminent claſs,
Is witch'd to the charms of a chiripping glaſs,
One virtue at leaſt, the kind Nipperkin has;—
She, meek as a lamb, is made by it.—
If madam's high paſſions unruly become,
Spouſe leaves her a cogue of rack, brandy, or rum,—
Let's her ſwill, ſwill, ſwill, ſwill, 'till ſhe's tight as a drum:
Her ſwilling to both will give quiet.
AIR V. Water parted from the Sea.
[12]TOM THUMB.
CROWNS I aſk not,—thoſe my ſword
Can atchieve me, when I pleaſe,
Nor of riches, aſk an hoard,
I have got enough of theſe.
If my deeds you deem a debt,
One grant can the debt annul;
Let me Huncamunca get,
Then, I'll ſign receipt in full.
AIR VI. Traveller benighted.
TOM THUMB.
AS when the chimney-ſweeper
Has all the live-long day,
Thro' darkſome paths, a creeper,
Purſued 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.
AIR VII. Giles Colin.
GLUMDALCA.
BUT alas! the great Thumb, with his dead-doing blade,
Deſpoiled all the twenty of life;
[13]Of giants, one ſcore, me the widow he made,
But he promiſed to make me his wife.
AIR VIII. LAMPUGNANI.
QUEEN.
SUCH vile alliance
My brain has flurried;—
Your baſe defiance
Of me is horrid.
Look to your forehead,
There fifty giants
Long horns ſhall plant:
With fifty giants
I will gallant.
My kind compliance
They ſhall not want.
A cat, dog-worry'd,
Will ſcratch and maul—
My vengeance ſtirred
Shall tear you all.
AIR IX. Rakes of Mallow.
KING.
WE kings, who are in our ſenſes,
Mock our conſorts' violences;
Piſhing at their moods and tenſes,
Our own will we follow.
[14]When the huſband, once, gives way
To the wife's capricious ſway,
For his breeches he, next day,
May go whoop and hollo!
AIR X. SABATINO.
GRIZZLE.
King Arthur from my fury,
Not Merlin's pow'r ſhall ſave,
My boiſt'rous hurry-durry,
Shall dig his kingdom's grave.
AIR XI.
QUEEN.
On a nothing, ſuch as this is,
Shall my girl her love miſplace?
In a bridal-bed, the bliſs is,
To have SOMETHING to embrace.
AIR XII. Duetto.
QUEEN.
LIAR, avaunt!
Thy ſaucy taunt
Is a proof of Tom's deſert.
He will break
That ſcurvy neck,
If on him thou dar'ſt fling dirt.
GRIZZLE.
Yes, yes, I go,
But, Madam! know,
(Since your majeſty's ſo pert,)
That a flood
Of your pet's blood;
To allay the ſtorm, ſhall ſpurt.
QUEEN.
[15]Go to hell!
GRIZZLE.
O mighty well!
QUEEN, GRIZZLE
Thither hie to feed the blaze!
I am glad I know your ways.
QUEEN.
My ſweet creature
To beſpatter,
Quick or dead, I'll ne'er forgive.
GRIZZLE.
'Tis my nature,
Not to flatter,
Take my word, he ſhall not live.
QUEEN, GRIZZLE
I'll ne'er forgive.
He ſhall not live.
END OF THE FIRST ACT.
ACT II.
[]AIR I.
QUEEN. Non Dubitar.
IN that dear hope, how many live
Whom wedlock's ſlaviſh fetters gall!
O what would ſome fine ladies give
To deck an odious huſband's pall!
Then ſucceeds
Gay gallanting,
Widow's weeds,
Oh enchanting!
A modiſh wife, e'er one ſpouſe die,
Will have another in her eye.
AIR II. Doodle-doo.
[18]PLUMANTE.
AS adown the mill-race quâaking
Duck and drake ſwim cloſe, love-making;
So will we, in blanket cuddle,
Miſs Plumante with her Doodle.
Doodle, doodle—doo.
AIR III. To its own Tune.
TOM THUMB.
YES, yes, whole days and nights and years
I'll eat her up with love,
And ſtill my raptures 'twill improve
That rivals ſhake their ears.
Such a banquet of joy,
Can ne'er cloy;
Like a glutton the whole I'll devour:
And replete
With the ſweet,
As a babe at the teat,
Tho' burſting, will whimper for more.
AIR IV. Moggy Lauder.
NOODLE.
'TIS politic to walk incog.
Beneath one hood, two faces;
[19]Be who will miller, I'll be dog,
Thus great one's keep their places.
I'll kiſs [...], and take the oath
To Po [...]y and to Caeſar,
So playing cat in pan to both,
Am vicar ſtill of Bray, ſir.
AIR V. Pallido II Sole. By HASSE.
GHOST.
PALE death a prowling;
Dire omens ſcowling.
Doom thee to ſlaughter,
Thee, thy wife and daughter;
Furies are growling.
With horrid uproar.
Grizzle's rebellion
What need I tell ye on?
Or, by a cow red,
Tom Thumb devoured!
Hark! the cock crowing,
I muſt be going.—
I can no more.
AIR VI. French Ballad.
KING.
IF a man could foreknow,
What he muſt undergo,
[20]And eſcape it ſo,
Good it were to know;
But if though he know,
He muſt undergo,
What good is't to know,
He muſt undergo.
AIR VII. Heigh-ho.
FRIZALTA.
WOULD you know the obſtruction that hinders
Her blood in its channels to flow;
Why ſhe craunches lime, chalk, and coal-cinders,
And mopes, and ſits ſighing heigh-ho!—
I'll tell you, ſir, where the ſhoe pinches,
(My own feelings witneſs, 'tis ſo,)
Preſcribe her an huſband,—that drench is
Probatum for curing heigh-ho!
AIR VIII. A French Burletta.
HUNCAMUNCA.
LONG againſt my will, in keeping,
(Of the Gew-gaw tir'd, to weeping,)
I, without joy,
Have held my virgin-toy.
'Twas my dread
Apes in hell to lead,
The common fate of an old maid:
[21]But thank my ſtars, that fright,
Little Tom puts to ſlight:
He, with new delight,
At night,
Will ſet all theſe matters right.
AIR IX. By MARSH.
KING.
YET, tho' you win the hero to your arms,
Hope not t'engage him wholly by your charms;
Various his duty, various his delight,
Now, 'tis his turn to kiſs,—and now to ſight,
Anon, to kiſs afreſh.—So, mighty Jove,
When, with exceſſive thundering, tir'd above,
Slips down to earth, juſt takes a ſnack, and then,
Up to his trade of thundering mounts again.
AIR X. A Ballad.
GRIZZLE.
IN hurry I poſt for a licence,
In hurry, ding dong, I come back.
For that you ſha'nt need bid me twice hence,
I'll there be, and here, in a crack.
Hey jing!
My heart's on the wing,
[22]I now could leap over the moon:
Let the chaplain
Set us a grappling,
And we'll ſtock a baby-houſe ſoon.
AIR XI.
HUNCAMUNCA.
TO drop ſuch broad hints of your vigour!
For ſhame!—do but ſee how I bluſh,
Yet, I think, you ſhould be a thought bigger,
On labours ſo arduous to ruſh.
Howe'er, if you'll ſtick to your promiſe,
To people, with Thumbs the whole land,
Pro Patria,—ſweet father Thomas!
I cannot deny you my hand.
AIR XII. The Lad for me.
TOM THUMB.
That pettifogging Grizzle, I find, is your gallant,
Who, like an hedge-attorney, cogs my title to ſupplant:
Shall he with you, join iſſue?—no, by my ſoul, he ſha'nt.
For Tommy is the lad, the lad for thee.
AIR XIII. Chriſt-Church Bells.
[23]GLUMDALCA.
O the vixen, pigmy brat,
Of inches ſcarce half ſix!
To ſlight me for a chit like that!
Ah, Mr. Tom, are theſe your tricks?
HUNCAMUNCA.
O the coarſe ſalacious trull,
Who giant ſpouſes ten and ten
To bed can pull,
With hugs can lull,
Yet ſtill would gull
Young gentlemen.
TOM THUMB.
Little, little, little, little, little tho' I be,
I ſcorn the ſturdy ſtrum;
Nor ever, ſhe
My dear, from thee
Shall debauch thy true Tom Thumb.
GLUM.
O the vixen &c.
HUNC.
O the coarſe &c.
T. TH.
Little, little, &c.
END OF THE SECOND ACT.
ACT III.
[]AIR I. By MARSH.
DOODLE.
KING Arthur's in love, knuckle deep, ſpeed the plough!
Glumdalca's his doxy, his punky;
Our queen Dollalolla's as drunk as a ſow,
And a-bed with Tom Thumb, Miſſy Munky.
AIR II. Ghoſts of every Occupation.
GRIZZLE.
LONG, I will not wear the willow,
Long, I will not hug the pillow;
[26]In my breaſt a ſtrom is brewing,
Which ſhall ſpread fire, ſword and ruin
O'er thoſe deſolated coaſts.
This proud Arthur down ſhall knuckle,
Dollalolla too ſhall truckle,
Huncamunca ſhall knock under,
Her I'll raviſh, them I'll plunder.
In fierce battle,
I will rattle,
Sinking, damning,
Slaſhing, cramming
Ev'ry chink of hell with ghoſts.
AIR III. A French Burletta Tune.
GLUMDALCA.
MY ambition to fire, ſince he ventures,
'Tis a lion, he plucks by the beard,
I'll be crown'd, or interr'd.
If with me the Liſts he once enters,
I will ſo maſh him,
Abaſh him;
So craſh him,
So ſmaſh him,
And haſh him,
That where to ſculk he ſhall not know;
His brows adorn,
Each night and morn,
[27]With the horn
Of ſcorn.
How I'll equip him, time will ſhew.
AIR IV. Duet. Of a Noble Race was Shenkin.
KING.
COME, don't be coy or muliſh;
I love you paſt expreſſing,
By granting ſoon,
The am'rous boon,
YOU will enhance the bleſſing.
GLUMDALCA.
I'm ſure I muſt look fooliſh,
By thus ſlap-daſh complying;
But all my life,
Spinſter, or wife,
I never lik'd denying.
KING.
Dull forms we can aboliſh,
Time's loſt, if we defer it;
Then here's my ſiſt,
GLUMDALCA.
I can't reſiſt
I lad of ſuch true ſpirit.
KING.
[28]Dull forms we can aboliſh.
GLUMDALCA.
Time's loſt, if we defer it.
KING.
Then take my fiſt.
GLUM.
Then take my fiſt.
KING.
I never kiſs'd
GLUM.
I can't reſiſt
KING.
A wench of nobler ſpirit.
GLUM.
A lad of ſuch true ſpirit.
AIR V. In Infancy.
QUEEN.
In bed when women lye awake,
(We wives can't always ſleep)
At ev'ry little noiſe we quake,
And cloſe and cloſer creep.
When preſs'd and warm,
In ſpouſy's arm,
(Let thunders rock the houſe)
We mock at frights,
We value ſprights,
Not three ſkips of a louſe.
AIR VI. I ſaw an Old Woman toſs'd up in a Blanket.
[29]HUNCAMUNCA.
It is not the being ſix feet, or ſix inches,
That can the proweſs decide of a man;
Him the true hero we call, who ne'er flinches,
What tho' his ſize be as ſhort as my fan.
If all your
True valour,
Reſides in the blood,
Which whiſking,
And friſking,
Denotes bottom good.
Tom Thumb for my money!—his furious attacks,
Make women their faces, and men turn their backs.
AIR VII. Come let us prepare.
DOODLE.
I wiſh your cauſe well,
But, I'd ſee it to hell,
E'er the ſcuſſle, my ſword I would draw in.
No.—I'll wait to divide,
On majority's ſide,
And then pay it off, with huzzaing.
AIR VIII. Was ever Nymph like Roſamond.
TOM THUMB.
My deeds in liquid warbling's ſung,
Before the beauteous and the brave,
My praiſe the theme of Eunuch's tongue,
Ha! ha! ha'-d! in my grave.
[30]With caro here, and bravo there,
Encore!
Encore!
O that would make a dead man ſtare,
AIR IX. By ARNE
GRIZZLE.
MY body is a bankrupt's ſhop,
My cruel creditor's grim death,
Who puts to life's briſk trade a ſtop,
And will be paid with this laſt breath.
AIR X. Roaſt Beef
TOM THUMB.
A chine of roaſt beef is the Engliſhman's food,
The Engliſhman's drink is a cup of home brew'd,
This diet to love and war kindles our blood.
O the roaſt beef, &c.
AIR XI. Flocks are Sporting.
HUNCAMUNCA.
Safe from quarrels,
Crown'd with laurels,
Full of love and full of play.
(Too long from me)
Comes my Tommy
Welcome as the flowers in May.
AIR XII. Babes of the Wood.
NOODLE.
Behind his back
She made th' attack,
[31]The while he huſſ'd and bluſter'd,
And at one ſup,
Swallow'd him up,
As Aldermen do cuſtard.
AIR XIII. Dirge.
Woe! woe! woe! woe!
To his long home,
Gone is Tom Thumb.
Alas! why did he go?
II.
'Midſt groaning,
And moaning,
Death ſtride's, triumphant, now,
For, by grim fate,
Lies Tom the Great,
Entomb'd in the red Cow.
III.
May belly-ach,
Her bowels rake,
May gripes her entrails ſwell!
While we in pity,
How I this ditty,
At his wake,
All tolling! ding, dong, bell.
AIR XIV. Pantomime Tune.
KING.
How like a fool upon his throne,
Looks a king, his ſubjects gone;
None but a coward, would ſurvive,
When only he is left alive.
VAUDEVILLE.
[32]CHORUS OF ALL.
Hey for potent Necromancie!
Our ſhort life to that we owe:
Merlin's art, and brilliant fancy,
Have produced this PUPPET SHOW.
KING.
Nor, is't ſtrange, his incantations,
Should of ſenſeleſs logs make players;
What but logs in corporations,
Are dull Aldermen and Mayors?
Chorus, Hey, &c.
QUEEN.
Courtiers, ſoldiers, politicians,
Meer logs now we juſtly call,
Lawyers, Churchmen, and Phyſicians,
What but Graduates of Log-Hall.
Chorus, Hey, &c.
TOM THUMB.
Ladies only are exempted,
From wit's general defect,
They, from ſuch as dare attempt it,
Will our PUPPET-SHOW protect.
CHORUS OF ALL.
Hey for potent Necromancie!
Our ſhort life to that we owe;
Merlin's art, and brilliant fancy,
Have produced this PUPPET-SHOW.
- Zitationsvorschlag für dieses Objekt
- TextGrid Repository (2020). TEI. 4200 Songs in the comic opera of Tom Thumb the Great As it is now performing at the Microcosm near Stephen s Street. University of Oxford Text Archive. . https://hdl.handle.net/21.T11991/0000-001A-602D-6