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MIDAS: AN Engliſh Burletta.
[Price Eighteen-pence.]
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MIDAS; AN Engliſh Burletta.
As it is performed, at the THEATRE-ROYAL, IN COVENT-GARDEN.
LONDON: Printed, for G. KEARSLY, W. GRIFFIN, J. COOTE, T. LOWNDS, and W. NICOLE.
M DCC LXIV.
To the READER.
[]THE Editor of the following piece thinks proper to obſerve, that the firſt idea of it was conceived, and the plan in ſome meaſure executed by a gentleman in Dublin, for the pri⯑vate entertainment of ſome perſons of diſtinction in that kingdom, at a time, when Italian Burlettas were blended with the exhibitions of the Theatre, and almoſt triumphed over the beſt productions in our language. The public ſpirit of thoſe, for whom it was originally intended, prevailed upon the author to enlarge his deſign. Ac⯑cordingly, MIDAS adventured on the ſtage, and met with uncommon ſuc⯑ceſs for a ſeries of nights. The Edi⯑tor begs leave to add a word con⯑cerning the ſtile which prevails in the following ſcenes. They are written in the true ſpirit of the mock-heroic. BURLESQUE, in all times, from the ſtage of ATHENS down to the DRAGON OF WANTLEY, has been eſteemed one of the provinces of the Drama. It's [] humour principally conſiſts in making dignified perſonages raiſe in our minds trite and ordinary ideas, or elſe in giving to trivial objects a ſerious air of gravity and importance.
It would be impertinent to point out inſtances in either way of compo⯑ſition; but thus much was deemed neceſſary that no one ſhould look for another ſort of entertainment than was here intended. The public, with their uſual candour, will conſider the par⯑ticular ſcope of this piece, and will decide nothing till they have heard the muſick, to which it is adapted. Should MIDAS in the repreſentation be found to have merit, and indeed, excellence in its kind; the generous critick will allow the author that degree of ap⯑plauſe, which his talents ſeem to de⯑ſerve.
Dramatis Perſonae.
[]- Jupiter, Mr. Legg.
- Juno, Mrs. Stephens.
- Apollo, Mr. Mattocks.
- Momus, Mr. Dibden.
- Mercury, Mr. Baker.
- Pan, Mr. Dunſtall.
Mutes.
- Mars,
- Vulcan,
- Venus,
- Minerva, &c, &c.
MORTALS.
- Midas, Mr. Shuter.
- Damaetas, Mr. Fawcett.
- Sileno, Mr. Beard.
- Myſis, Miſs Poitier.
- Daphne, Miſs Miller.
- Nyſa, Miſs Hallam.
- Oracle, Mr.Wayle
SCENE, firſt on mount Olympus, afterwards on the paſtures of Lydia.
MIDAS.
[]ACT I.
The curtain riſing diſcovers the Heathen Deities, ſeated amidſt the clouds, in full council: they addreſs Jupiter in chorus, accompanied by all the inſtruments.
AIR I. King of Pruſſia's March. Chorus of all the Gods.
JOVE, in his chair,
Of the ſky Lor'd-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.
[2] 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
Jove would cuff,
He's ſo bluff,
For a ſtraw.
Cow'd deities
Like mice, in cheeſe
To ſtir muſt ceaſe,
Nor gnaw.
RECITATIVE, accompanied.
Jup
(riſing.)
Immortals, you have heard your plaintive ſovereign
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,
Your huſband—when the jealous Gad-bee twitches,
Swallow your ſpittle—Jove will wear the breeches.
AIR II. To its own tune.
To happy ignorance
Connubial peace is owing:
'Tis a curſe to be too knowing
Beſt let things take their chance.
[3] A buſy curioſity
Produces endleſs evils,
It turns the Gods felicity
To ſharpeſt pangs of devils,
Supplying food to jealouſy.
RECITATIVE.
Juno
(aſide.)
What new rape is toward? To ſixes and ſevens,
This tyrant, for it's ſake, will jumble the heavens.
I'll take the law.
(to Jup.)
My proctor, with a ſummonsShall cite you, ſir, t'appear at Doctor's Commons.
Jup.
Let him—but firſt I'll chaſe from Heaven yon varlet,
Juno.
What, for detecting you and your vile harlot?
Fine ſcheme! baniſh the Sun! drive out Apollo!
That you, of lawleſs love, deep draughts may ſwallow.
You'll then not need, thou grand monarque of Horners,
Skulk with your miſſes into holes and corners.
AIR III. Shaan Bwee.
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 ferrit the haunts
Of your female gallants,
In vain you in darkneſs encloſe them,
Your favourite jades,
I'll plunge to the ſhades,
Or into cows metamorphoſe them.
[4]RECITATIVE.
Jup.
Peace termagant, I ſwear by Styx—our thunder
Shall hurl him to the earth.
Momus.
Sire, we knock under.
Ha, ha, ha,
(Aſide)
O jeſt moſt precious!'Twill ſerve a thouſand years hence to refreſh us.
I ſay, down with him, Jove—exert your puiſſance,
Morbleu, the puppy's grown a public nuiſance,
Ay, ay, ſhort work—put out the light, and then—
AIR V. There was a jovial Beggar.
No difference of character,
Vice, virtue—idle dreams!
For lewd, or chaſte, or foul, or fair,
Muſt then be only names,
When a ſporting all may go, may go, may go, &c.
Screen'd from the huſband's jealous eyes,
All love, all free as air,
No wanton need to fear ſurprize
Oh what a life were there!
When a ſporting, &c.
Then hey for trumps, for matadores
And rare ſanſprendre voles,
Old maids will fly, when paſt amours,
To dear quadrille by ſhoals.
And a gambling, &c.
RECITATIVE.
Jove.
O brave, we nod his doom!
Apollo.
Hold, hold, have patience
Papa—No bowels far your own relations!
[5]RECIT. accompanied.
What can this hurly-burly, this helter-ſkelter mean?
Jove looks confounded ſurly!—Chaos is come again.
AIR VI. To It's own tune.
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,
Then break the lamps, beat watchmen
And ſtagger to ſome punk.
RECITATIVE.
Jup.
You ſaucy ſcoundrel—there ſir—come Diſorder,
Down Phoebus, down to earth, we'll hear no farther.
RECIT. accompanied.
Roll, thunders, roll, blue lightnings flaſh around him,
The blab ſhall find our ſky can do without him.
Thunder and lightning. Jupiter darts a bolt at him, he falls.—Jupiter re-aſſumes his throne, and the Gods all aſcend together, ſinging the ini⯑tial chorus. Jove in his chair, &c.
[6] SCENE A Champaign country with a diſtant village; violent ſtorm of thunder and lightning. Shepherds ſleeping in the field are rouzed by it and run away fright⯑ed. One leaves his cloak, hat, and guittar behind him. Apollo is ſeen whirling in the air, as caſt from heav'n; he falls to earth, with a rude ſhock, and lies for a while, ſtunn'd: at length he begins to move, riſes, advances, and looking upward, ſpeaks.
RECIT. accompanied.
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' ſorely 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, guittar, and perſon,
Among the nymphs to kick up ſome diverſion.
AIR VII. Hang me if I marry.
With fun, my diſgrace I'll parry
While here on earth, I tarry,
With the nymphs, in my way,
I'll kiſs and play,
But hang me if I marry—hang me if I marry
With the nymphs, &c.
[7]
Let the ſky go to wreck, and miſcarry,
Without my luminary,
Pol here will ſtay,
To kiſs and play
To toy, but never marry—toy, but never marry.
Pol here will ſtay, &c. &c.
Enter SILENO.
RECITATIVE.
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.
Selino.
You've drawn a prize i'th' lottery.—So have I too;
Why,— I'm the maſter you could beſt apply to.
AIR VIII. To it's own tune.
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 and cabbage,
Butter, milk, and oaten-bread.
Fa la la.
[8]
Come ſtrike hands, you'll live in clover,
When we get you once at home,
And when daily labour's over
We'll all dance to your ſtrum, ſtrum.
Fa la la.
RECITATIVE.
Pol.
(aſide.)
From Nectar, and Ambroſia, 'tis coarſe diet;
When I was well, why could I not be quiet.
(After a pauſe takes Sileno by the hand and ſings to the foregoing air.)
Done, 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.
DUETTO. Air continued.
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 the chorus.
[9] SILENO's Farm-Houſe.
Daphne and Nyſa, diſcover'd running,—their ſpin⯑ning-wheels over turned.
Both.
Ha, ha, ha!
Daph.
But Nyſa, how goes on ſquire Midas' courtſhip?
Nyſ.
Your ſweet Damaetas, pimp to his great worſhip
Brought me from him a purſe;—but the condi⯑tions—
—I've cur'd him, I believe, of ſuch commiſſions.
Daph.
The moon-calf! this muſt blaſt him with my father.
Nyſ.
Right. So we'er rid of the two frights together.
AIR IX. If 'tis joy to wound a Lover.
If the ſwain we ſigh for preſs us,
Oh how pleaſing 'tis to pleaſe!
If the fright we loath addreſs us
How delightful 'tis to teize.
RECITATIVE.
Daph.
Arch Monkey, hang me if I thought 'twas in you.
Well Ny—work you your Squire—as for my Ninny—
If he ſhan't curſe—then call me driv'ling Gipſey—
The hour that firſt on Daph he caſt a ſheep's eye.
[10] AIR X. Mirleton.
If I cannot plague the lubber,
Now I have him in my crib,
If, when he begins to blubber,
I can't ſoothe or laugh, or fib,
Doom'd for life, I may be,
To play with my baby,
And to wear a ſlabb'ring bib.
Both.
Ha! ha! ha!—Ha! ha! ha!
Myſis enters hastily.
RECITATIVE,
Myſ.
Hey-day! what mare's neſt's found?—For ever grinning:
Ye rantipoles—is't thus you mind your ſpinning.
AIR XI. Three Sheep-ſkins.
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.
For here they ſkip, &c.
[11] Giddy Maids,
Poor ſilly jades,
All after men are gadding;
They flirt Pall mall,
Their train to ſwell,
To coxcomb, coxcomb adding
To ev'ry fop
They're Cock-a-hoop,
And ſet their mother's madding.
To ev'ry fop, &c.
Enter Sileno introducing Pol.
RECITATIVE.
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 la⯑bour.
To'm lad—then he can play and ſing and caper.
Myſ.
He ſhall not ſtay—unknown to me to hire him,
A lath!
Sil.
Nay there you're out,—no toil can tire him.
Myſ.
(putting Pol. from Daph.)
Gad's me! your diſtance, ſcare-crow! curſed civil!
Beggars once mounted, gallop to the devil.
Gaffer,
(to Sil.)
your blunders every hour ſurprize one:This waſhy clout a drudge!—ah, thou'rt a wiſe one.
Fine rubbiſh to bring home, a ſtrolling thrummer!
(to Pol.)
What art thou good for? ſpeak, thou ragged mummer.Nyſ.
[12]Mother, for ſhame—
Myſ.
Peace, ſaucebox, or I'll maul you.
Pol.
Goody, my ſtrength and parts you under value.
For his and your work, I am briſk and handy.
Daph.
A ſad cheat elſe—
Myſ.
What you, you jacka-dandy.
Pol.
(aſide)
Our Gammer, ſure, has tipt her [...] of ſtingo!
Am I Apollo, and muſt bear this lingo?
AIR XII. A tune in Queen Mab.
Pray goody, pleaſe to moderate the rancour of your tongue:
Why flaſh thoſe ſparks of fury from your eyes?
Remember, when the judgement's weak, the prejudice is strong.
A ſtranger why will you deſpiſe?
Ply me
Try me
Prove, e'er you deny me,
If you caſt me
Off, you blaſt me
Never more to riſe.
Pray, goody, pleaſe, &c.
RECITATIVE.
Myſ.
Sirrah, this inſolence deſerves a drubbing.
Nyſ.
With what ſweet temper he bears all her ſnubbing
(aſide)
Sil.
Oons, no more words—go boy, and get your dinner.
Exit Pol.
Fye, why ſo croſs grain'd to a young beginner?
to Myſ.
Nyſ.
[13]So modeſt!
Daph.
So genteel!
Sil.
(to Myſ.)
Not pert, nor lumpiſh.
Myſ.
Would he were hang'd!
Nyſ. and Daph.
La! mother, why ſo frumpiſh?
AIR XIII. To the tune of, Non, Non, vo⯑lette n'eſt paint trompeuſe.
Nyſ.
Mama, how can you be ſo ill-natured,
To the gentle handſome ſwain?
Daph.
To a lad, ſo limb'd, ſo feature'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:
Syl.
Wife, in vain you tieze and vex me,
I will rule depend upon't.
Nyſ.
Ah! ah!
Daph.
Mama!
Nyſ. and Daph.
Mama, how can you be ſo illnatur'd,
Ah, ah, to a lad ſo limb'd, ſo featured?
Nyſ. and Daph.
To the gentle, handſome ſwain
Sure 'tis cruel to give pain,
Nyſ. and Daph.
Sure 'tis cruel to give pain,
To the gentle, handſome ſwain.
Myſ.
Girls, for you my fears perplex me,
I'm alarm'd on your accounts.
Sil.
Wife in vain you tieze and vex me
I will rule depend upon't.
Nyſ., Myſ.
Mama
Pſha! Pſhaw!
Daph., Sil.
Papa
Ah! ah!
Daph., Sil., Nyſ.
Mama, how can yon be ſo ill-natured,
Pſha, pſha, you muſt not be ſo ill-natur'd;
Ah, ah, to a lad ſo limb'd, ſo featur'd,
Daph., Sil., Nyſ., Myſ.
[14]To the gentle, handſome ſwain,
He's a gentle, handſome ſwain,
Sure 'tis cruel to give pain,
T'is my pleaſure to give pain.
Daph., Sil., Nyſ., Myſ.
Sure 'tis cruel to give pain,
He's a gentle, handſome ſwain
To the gentle handſome ſwain.
To your odious, fav'rite ſwain.
Exeunt.
Squire Midas diſcovered in his parlour, ſmoaking his pipe, lolling in an eaſy chair. Damaetas wait⯑ing at a reſpectful diſtance.
RECITATIVE.
Mid.
Nyſa, you ſay, refuſ'd the guineas Britiſh.
Dam.
Ah! pleaſe your worſhip—ſhe is wond'⯑rous ſkittiſh.
Out, pimp, ſaid ſhe,—take back to him who ſent it, That traſh—
Mid.
Death!—ſcorn'd!—the minx ſhall ſore re⯑pent it.
Dam.
She ſcorns you—
Mid.
But when you told her what I meant to ſettle—
Dam.
She flounc'd, you'd ſwear her tongue was of bell-metal.
Mid.
I'll have her, coſt what 'twill, odſbods—I'll force her—
Dam.
The halter—
Mid.
As for madam, I'll divorce her.—
Dam.
The biſhop's court—lard help your paper noddle!
Did ſhe not give the ſlip to young Sir Dawdle?
Her ſitter Daphne too, a curſe upon her,
Uſes me worſe, than Niſa does your honour.
Mid.
[15]Some favour'd lout incog our bliſs op⯑poſes,
Dam.
Ay, Pol, the hind, puts out of joint our noſes.
AIR XIV. Fanny's fairer than a flower.
Wretched he, whoſe pain or pleaſure
Hangs on faithleſs woman's mind;
Such the merchant's ſtate, whoſe treaſure
Swims the ſport of tide and wind.
Female likings are unſteady
As the veering weather-cock.
Miſs, for new addreſſes ready
Shifts her lover, like her ſmock.
RECITATIVE.
Mid.
I've heard of that Pol's tricks,—of his ſly tampering
To fling poor Pan, but I'll ſoon ſend him ſcamper⯑ing.
An upſtart!—rival me!—by George, I'll pheaze him.
Dam.
Sir, he bewitches every girl that ſees him.
Mid.
'Sblood, I'll commit him—drive him to the gallows!
Where is old Pan?
Dam.
Tipling, Sir, at th' ale-houſe.
Mid.
Run, fetch him—we ſhall hit on ſome ex⯑pedient—
To rout this Pol.
Dam.
I fly,
(going returns)
Sir, your obedient.Exit.
[16]RECIT. accompanied.
Mid.
What boots my being Squire
Juſtice of Peace, and Quorum?
Church-warden—knight o'th' ſhire,
And Cuſtos Rotulorum?
If ſaucy little Nyſa's heart rebellious,
My ſquireſhip ſlights, and hanckers after fellows?
AIR XV. To a French tune, A la Santé du Pere d'Oleron.
Shall a paltry clown, not fit to wipe my ſhoes
Dare my amours to croſs?
Shall a peaſant minx, when juſtice Midas wooes
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.
SCENE An Alehouſe.
Pan is diſcovered ſitting at a table, with a tankard, pipes, and tobacco before him, his bagpipes lying by him.
AIR XVI. Sheelagh na Guig.
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.
[17] Juno rates him
And grates him,
And leads his highneſs a weary life;
I have my laſs
And my glaſs,
And ſtrole a batchelor's merry life.
Let him fluſter
And bluſter,
Yet cringe to his harridan's furbella;
To my fair tulips
I glew lips,
And clink the cannikin here below.
Jupiter wenches, &c.
Enter DAMAETAS.
RECITATIVE.
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-ranter,
Tickled by his guittar—they ſcorn your chanter.
[18] AIR XVII. Tune in Pant. of Fortunatus
All around the maypole how they trot,
Hot
Pot,
And good ale have got;
Routing,
Shouting,
At you flouting.
Fleering,
Jeering,
And what not:
All around the maypole, &c.
There is old Sileno friſks like a mad
Lad,
Glad
To ſee us ſad,
Cap'ring,
Vap'ring,
While Pol, ſcraping,
Coaxes
The doxies
As he did the dad.
All around the maypole, &c.
RECITATIVE.
Pan.
O blood, and guts! What, dare the tinkler ſcurvy
Intrude, to turn my wenches topſy turvy?
A fop! chouſe me out of my choice trol-lops,
I'll ſmaſh his trim guittar—about his chaps.
[19] AIR XVIII. My wife's a galloping, &c.
Shall he run away with the laſſes
By his trills, and his ſlurs, and his graces,
From me who at fairs, and horſe-races,
Have pip'd to the laird of the clan.
A fribble!—If I can but catch him
I'll pummel—I'll pinch, and I'll ſcratch him,
I warrant I'll make him not match him
Self as a muſician with Pan.
RECITATIVE.
Dam.
Keep yourſelf cool, good maſter Pan—this courage
Is thrown away—Pol's a mere chip in Porridge;
Softly and fair—
Pan.
You're right;—our Squire, when mellow,
'Tis he ſhall do't—he's a rough, hect'ring fellow.
Dam.
Why he ſent me for you—He, with kicks o'th' crupper,
Will make Pol dance—He'll gi'n ſalt eel to's ſupper.
Pan.
Step you before—I'll but juſt pay my reck'ning
And in a crack attend his worſhip's beck'ning.
Exit Dam.
He throws ſome pieces on the table, and de⯑parting is met by
MYSIS, entering haſtily.
Myſ.
O Pan! the devil to pay—both my ſluts frantic!
Both in their tantrums, for yon cap'ring antick.
Rivals forſooth!
Pan.
What, for a ſtraggling goatherd!
Myſ
For this fine piece of work—thanks to my dotard.
[20] AIR XIX. Sheelagh na Guiragh.
Sure I ſhall run with vexation diſtracted,
To ſee my purpoſes thus counter-acted!
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:.
RECITATIVE.
But I'll go ſeek 'em all—and if I find 'em,
I'll drive 'em—as if Old Nick were behind 'em.
Going
Pan.
Soa, ſoa,—don't flounce;
Avaſt—diſguiſe your fury.
Pol we ſhall trounce.
Midas is judge and jury.
AIR XX. Tune, Planxty Johnſton.
When at your foe
A mortal blow
You aim,
Your ſcheme
Let him not know.
[21] To gain your end
You muſt pretend,
Sincerely
And dearly,
To be his friend,
'Till be ceaſe of your love to be doubtful.
Your game to play,
The ſailors ſay
Look one, but row another way.
The dean, to fiſh up
Lawn ſleeves, and be biſhop
Says no, to the mitre that would fill his wiſh up▪
And puſſey
Can counterfeit ſleeping,
When mouſey
Steals tip-a-toe creeping;
Then winking,
And blinking,
She catches,
Diſpatches,
And ſwallows him up at a mouthful.
RECITATIVE.
Myſ.
Out on't, I'll act above-board—I'll ne'er flatter,
Not I—I ſcorn it—tell me no ſuch matter.
My goſſips all would loll their tongues,
To ſee me with my vengeance trifle.
Pan.
Ay, but to pay him home thoſe wrongs,
Your tranſports you muſt ſtifle.
Myſ.
Srifle!—dye firſt! ſhall Myſis ſtoop to crawling!
No—by my will—theſe hands ſhould ſtretch him ſprawling.
Pan.
You do but put him on his guard by bawling
[22] AIR. XXI. Duett. Gavott in Overt. Otho.
This raſh frenzy
Foils, not mends you.
How you ſplutter!
Check this clutter:
Huſt—don't utter
Threats, or mutter.
If he trips,
Succeſs attend ye
Fair words butter
No parſnips.
Myſ.
Grov'ling ſpirit!
I can't bear it.
Can a mother,
Without pother
Her rage ſmother
When girls both are
By his wiles
Debauch'd, or near it▪
Can ſhe cloath her
Face with ſmiles.
Pan.
Spite loquacious
Makes foes cautious.
Myſ.
Mean ſubmiſſion
Meets deriſion.
Pan.
Beldam froward!
Myſ.
Sneaking coward!
Pan
[23]In ſurprize
The triumph lies.
Myſ.
I deſpiſe
Such low diſguiſe.
Ribornello.
Nay let's trick him, Sooth, then hick him. Wait, Wait, Wait, nor mutter. Ruin utter Smooth, but pat Unaware ſhall ſtick him, And i'th' the gutter Lay him flat. | Zooks I'll twinge him, I'll unhinge him. Tumult, ſplutter, Coil, and clutter. Wait, Nor mutter. Strait, vile brat Shall cruſh, ſhall ſwinge him. And i'th' gutter Lay him flat. |
Dance of Satyrs, Fauns, and Dryads.
END OF THE FIRST ACT.
ACT II.
[24]An old grove, in the midſt, the old oracular oak by it ſelf, its boughs decorated with votive wreaths. Enter Sileno alone, a garland in his hand. He ſeems ſtruck with religious horror at the gloomy ſolitude. During the ſymphony he advances timor⯑ouſly, and hangs his garland on a branch:
RECIT. accompanied.
Sil.
Hail, myſtic oak!—zooks what a taking
Am I now in!—oh, how I ſhiver!
I'm in an ague—ha! the very ſhaking
Of the leaves, throws me all over int'a quaking,—
My wife! I'll ne'er forgive her—
I'm wet as in a river—
Ah! ha! there—what was't gave me a twitch?
It muſt have been a witch,
Or ſomething diabolic.
Oh, 'tis a fooliſh frolic.
(Thunder and lightning—Sileno retires trembling to a corner of the ſtage, and there falls on his knees with hands uplifted.)
[25] Duett. AIR I. To its own tune.
Sil.
Wond'rous timber, who can'ſt hear,
All our queſtions without ear.
Ora.
Without ear.
Sil.
And make anſwer without tongue.
Ora.
Without tongue.
Sil.
Yet known never to be wrong.
Ora.
Yet known never to be wrong.
Sil.
Now awful ſilence break,
And to the purpoſe ſpeak.
Ora.
Speak.
Sil.
Is my dame mov'd by the devil
That ſhe can't to Pol be civil?
Ora.
To Pol be civil.
Sil.
Say, what means the ſhrewiſh fripp'ry
Dinn'ng ſtill that girls are ſlipp'ry?
Ora.
Girls are ſlipp'ry.
Sil.
Dupes ſhall we all by Pol be made.
Ora.
All by Pol be made.
Sil.
If I don't diſcard the lad.
Ora.
Don't diſcard the lad.
AIR II. Newmarket.
Sil.
Oh fye, wooden Oracle, fye for ſhame
To let me go back as wife as I came.
Exit.
[26] SCENE. A Wood. A wood, and lawn near Sileno's farm, flocks grazing at a diſtance,—a tender ſlow ſym⯑phony. Enter Daphne, walks about melan⯑cholic and ſilent; at length lays herſelf down on a bank abſorbed in meditation. Nyſa watching her.
RECITATIVE.
Nyſa.
O ho'! is it ſo—Miſs Daphne in the dumps,
Mum—ſnugs the word—I'll lead her ſuch a dance
Shall make her ſtir her ſtumps.
To all her ſecret haunts,
Like her ſhadow, I'll follow and watch her:
And, faith, mamma ſhall hear on't if I catch her.
AIR III. From tree to tree.
To blaſt a rival's happineſs
We ev'ry art employ:
And ſcarcely can our own ſucceſs,
Convey a purer joy.
A kind of victory we feel,
If ſhe no triumph gain
Deny'd a real bliſs, we steal
Falſe pleaſure from her pain.
[27]RECIT. partly accompanied.
(Daphne riſes, and comes forward muſing)
Daph.
La! how my heart goes pit-a-pat what thumping
E'er ſince my father brought us home this bump⯑kin.
Heigho!—heigho!—yet why
Mope thus and ſigh?
Has not the fellow eyes as well as I?
Gad's heart o' grace I'll pluck up;
Throw myſelf in his way and pump him,
Appear leſs ſtarch'd and ſtuck up.
Then let him gueſs my meaning by my mumping.
AIR IV. To a French tune, Quand on Scait aimer et plair.
He's as tight a lad to ſee to,
As e'er ſtept in leather ſhoe
And, what's better, he'll love me too,
And to him I'll prove true blue.
Tho' my ſiſter caſts a Hawk's eye
I defy what ſhe can do.
He o'er looked the little Doxy,
I'm the girl he means to woo.
He's as tight, &c.
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.
If he's falſe, &c.
He's as tight, &c.
(End with the firſt ſtrain.)
[28]RECITATIVE.
Enter Pol.
Pol.
Think o' the devil—'tis ſaid,
He's at your ſhoulder—
This wench was running in my head,
And pop—behold her.
Such fair occaſions are not met with often,
What if I touch the tender vein,
And whine ſome melting, plaintive ſtrain
Her heart to ſoften.
(kneels to her)
AIR V. When on the dear boſom lying.
Lovely nymph aſſwage 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 needs ſue in vain;
Prince of ſong, of dance of ſports—you
Scarce will meet his like again.
Did you know, &c.
RECITATIVE.
Daph.
Sir; you're ſuch an oglio,
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.
[29] AIR VI. The prieſt in his boots.
If you can caper, as well as you 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 bag-pipe has ſo drowſy a drone,
That if they find you, as I did, no backwarder,
You may count an all the girls as your own.
RECITATIVE.
Pol.
I aſk but you—and yours I'll be for ever.
Daph.
How can I truſt?
Pol.
You may, you muſt.
Daph.
Vows are brittle,
You'll prove fickle.
Pol.
I'll die firſt.
Daph.
That's clever.
Pol.
D' you think I'll range:
Againſt all change,
Your charms are my heart's armour.
Myſ.
(from within)
Pol, Pol, make haſte, come hither.
Pol.
Death, what a time to call,
Oh! not your old lungs of leather.
B'ye Daph.
Daph.
B'ye Pol.
Pol.
My charmer.
[30] AIR VII. An Italian tune of Peſcetti.
Neateſt,
Compleateſt
And ſweeteſt
Dear Fubſy.
This is
A criſis,
When Myſis
Croſs ſnubs I
Could brave and ſtay;
Yet your
Food nature
Kind creature,
Her malice
Gueſſing,
Our bleſſing.
Suppreſſing
Might gaul us,
Therefore away.
(During the ſymphony, they take a tender leave and part) Exit. Pol.
Nyſa burſts from her lurking place.
RECITATIVE.
Nyſ.
Marry come up, forſooth,
I'ſt 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.
[31]Marry come up a gain.
Indeed! my dirty couſin!
Have you a right to every ſwain?
Nyſ.
Ay, tho' a dozen.
AIR VIII. Bobbing Joan. DUETTO.
I.
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 gyanteſs of Guild-hall?
Daph.
Pigmy elf
Nyſ.
Coloſſus itſelf.
Both.
You will lie 'till your mouldy upon the ſhelf.
Pigmy elf, &c.
II.
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 Brobdignag.
Daph.
Sour grapes,
Nyſ.
Lead Apes,
Both.
I'll humble your vanity miſtreſs Trapes.
III.
[32]Daph.
Miſs your aſſurance
Nyſ.
And miſs, your high airs
Daph.
Is paſt all indurance
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.
Daph., Nyſ.
Poor ſpite!
Pride hurt!
Daph., Nyſ.
Liver white!
Rare ſport!
Daph., Nyſ.
Do, ſhew your teeth, ſpitfire, do, but you can't bite.
This haughtineſs ſoon will he laid in the dirt,
Poor ſpite! &c.
Pride hurt, &c.
Exit, Daph.
RECIT. accompanied.
Nyſ.
Good lack! what is come o'er me?
I'm all bewitched, untwiſted.
Ah! Cupid, thou'rt a wizard
Thy ſpells are not to be reſiſted.
Alas, Daphne, has ſtep'd before me!
Envy and love, devour me.
Pol, doats upon her phiz hard
'Tis that, 'tis that ſticks in my gizzard.
Midas appears now twenty times more hi⯑deous
Ah, Nyſa, what reſource?—a cloyſter.
Death alive—yet thither muſt I run,
And turn nun.
Leſt hurried by love prodigious
Or lur'd by hope inſidious,
I be by Pol undone,
As you'd undo an oyſter.
[33] AIR IX. A French. tune, Aſſis ſur l'Herbertte.
In thoſe greaſy old tatters
His charms brighter ſhine;
Then his guittar he clatters
With tinkling divine:
But, my ſiſter;
Ah! he kiſt her,
And me he paſs'd by;
I'm jealous
Of the fellow's
Bad taſte and blind eye.
I'm jealous, &c.
Going out, is met by MIDAS, entering.
RECITATIVE.
Mid.
Turn, tygreſs, turn; nay fly not—
I have thee at a why not.
How comes it, little Nyſa,
That heart to me ſo icy
Should be to Pol like tinder
Burnt up t'a very cinder?
Nyſ.
Sir, to my virtue ever ſteady,
Firm as a rock
I ſcorn your ſhock,
But why this attack?
A miſtreſs 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 Old Harry
The moment madam's coffin'd—Her I'll marry.
[34] AIR X. The Lottery.
O what pleaſures will abound
When my wife is laid in ground
Oh what pleaſures, &c.—
Let earth cover her
We'll dance over her
When my wife's laid in the ground.
Let earth, &c.
Oh how happy ſhould I be
Would little Nyſa pig with me.
Oh how happy, &c.
How I'd mumble her,
Touze and tumble her
Would little Nyſa pig with me.
How I'd mumble, &c.
RECITATIVE.
Nyſa.
Young birds alone are caught with chaff,
But think not, ſquire, this farce on
Me e're ſhall paſs;
At your baſe ſcheme I laugh,
E'er I fall to, the grace
Shall be pronounced by the parſon.
Mid.
Yet take my vows.—
Nyſ.
I would not take your bond, ſir,—
Mid.
Half my eſtate—
Nyſ.
No, nor the whole,—my fond ſir.
[35] AIR XI. A Pantomime Tune.
Ne'er will I be left i'th' lurch,
Ceaſe your bribes and wooing:
'Till I'm made a bride i'th' church
I'll keep man from doing.
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 eaſy cooing.
Can your palace, plate or coach,
Can your diamonds glitt'ring
Bridle the tongue of foul reproach?
Gibers will be titt'ring.
Then poor ſtumbler,
How't muſt humble her
(If a ſumbler
She lets mumble her)
When, in her hearing,
Whiſp'ring, ſneering,
Chatt'ring, ſwearing,
Hiſſing, tearing,
Gall'ry, box and pitt ring.
Exit
RECITATIVE.
Mid.
Well, maſter Pol 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.
[36] AIR XII. Lary Grogan.
If into your hen yard
The treacherous Reynard
Steals ſlily, your poultry to ravage, to ravage.
With gun you attack him,
With beagles you track him,
All's fair to deſtroy the fell ſavage, fell ſavage.
So Pol, who comes picking
Up my tender chicken
No means do I ſcruple to baniſh, to baniſh.
With pow'r I'll o'erbear him,
With fraud I'll enſnare him
By hook, or by crook he ſhall vaniſh, ſhall vaniſh.
Going out, he is met by PAN.
RECITATIVE.
Pan.
So ſquire, well met.—I flew to know your buſineſs.
Mid.
Why, Pan, this Pol we muſt bring down on his knees.
Pan.
That were a feat indeed!—a feat to brag on.
Mid.
Let's home—we'll there concert it o'er [...] flagon.
I'll make him ſkip—
Pan.
As St. George did the dragon.
[37] AIR XIII. Tune in Fortunatus.
Mid.
Strip him,
Whip him.
Let his ſhoulder feel your laſh on't.
Clip him,
Rip him,
Folly now to he compaſſionate.
If ſuch a little dapper,
Pert, ſaucy whipperſnapper,
Sileno's underſtrapper,
Slily
Simp'ring,
Whimp'ring,
Of your dear Nyſa beguile ye—
Sniv'ling,
Driv'ling,
Will but diſgrace and defile ye [...]
Vigour,
Rigour,
Hurry,
Flurry,
Are the meaſures fitteſt for ye.
My plots private
You'll connive at;
Thus we gain the point we drive at
Or by covert
Practices, or ouvert.
Exeunt.
[38] SCENE a Room in SILENO'S Houſe. Daphne diſcovered at work.
Enter DAMAETAS, who ſees her not.
RECIT. accompanied.
Dam.
Heigho! my very heart will burſt aſunder,
What ſtar malign was I born under!
A muckworm herd
To me preferr'd,
O blood and thunder!
[Sees Daph.]
Ha, Daph, alone!—To ſilence
I'm aw'd—The Devil's in it.
Have at her—Here goes—.
Should ſhe conſent—who knows,
This may be the critical minute;
For ever loſt a while hence!
Egad, I'm all agog on't.
Seize Time by the forelock,
E'en make a hog, or a dog on't;
The bolder puſh, the more luck.
RECITATIVE.
Daph.
Who ſent for you, you hoddy doddy?
Dam.
(aſide)
There, now, how croſs!—
(to her)
Nobody.
I came o'myſelf, as uſual,
The queſtion to pop.
Daph.
Get you gone, you milk-ſop;
What, after my refuſal!
Dam.
Ah Daphne, you ſtop the breath o' me;
Huſſey, you'll be the death o' me.
Ah, why, dear girl, why take up with that beggar,
And uſe your own Damaetas like a neger?
[39] AIR XIV. Tune, Nanny of the Hill,
Since firſt thoſe eyes enſlav'd my heart
In ſize I'm waſted half—
My looks betray my inward ſmart,
Ah cruel, cruel Daph.
Ah cruel! ah cruel! ah cruel, cruel Daph.
Inhuman maid, my ſighs you ſcout,
My tears but make you laugh,
Yet at firſt ſight, an upſtart lout
Has nabb'd my fickle Daph.
Ah fickle! ah fickle! ah fickle, fickle Daph.
How can you on my courtſhip frown,
My wealth deſpiſe as chaff,
Yet ſuffer ſuch a clumſy clown
To win and tickle Daph.
To win and tickle, to win and tickle Daph.
RECITATIVE.
Daph.
You purſe-proud bag of lies,
Who gave you leave my actions
Thus ſaucily to ſcrutinize
And load with baſe detractions?
Farther a field I weet you
Quick, bundle up your packet,
For fear this beggar meet you
And thraſh your jacket.
[40] AIR XV. A French tune. Tourteulle.
Yes; your wealth I hold at nought,
Daphne's heart ſhall ne'er be bought;
Ne'er to church haſte
Baſely purchas'd
By a rich ninny;
Who, to keep her chaſte,
Would lock her up like his guinea.
In your pain my pleaſure is,
Jealous dolt, I hate your phiz,
Hiſſing gander
My Philander
Scorns your aſperſion;
Pitiful ſlander
Renders you more my averſion.
Exit.
RECITATIVE.
Dam.
(whiſtles)
Hey toſs! Sh'as paid me ſoundly!
A ſwinging rap o'th' knuckles.
Well, to theſe honeyſuckles
He's a meer oaf who truckles.
For miſs the more he buckles
To, and will on ground lye,
The more curvetts and chuckles.
[41] AIR XVI. Farewel the Hills and Vallies.
By whining
Pining
Sighing
Coquetts are never won,
But, fright 'em
Spite 'em
Slight 'em
Into your arm's they run.
A coward,
How hard
Toward
His foe it is to puſh!
Reſtrain him
Rein him
Train him,
He's mad on death to ruſh.
Exit.
SCENE Sileno's Garden.
Enter Sileno and Myſis.
RECITATIVE.
Sil.
Why—is the devil in you Gammer.
Have I no refuge from your clamour?
Myſ.
Was ever wife ſo baſely treated?
So croſs'd, ſo gaul'd, ſo fretted!
O Gods! I ſhall run crazy
Mad, mad!
Sil.
No March-hare madder,
Do, lambkin give it vent,—'twill eaſe you;
And make your heart the gladder.
[42] AIR XVII. When that I was a little tiny Boy.
When gathering clouds obſcure the ſky
With a criſh, craſh,
Fliſh and flaſh,
The thunders rowl, and the lightnings fly;
Then rain—and all is lullaby.
So when a vixen's paſſions ſwell
Tongue all ire,
Eyes on fire,
Boſom rent by fiends of hell,
At length tears ſtream—and all is well.
RECITATIVE.
Myſ.
Well!—I'll be even with that ſpark yet.
Of fiſh a dainty kettle
You have dreſt—you numſcul beetle;
You've brought your hogs to a fair market.
Sil.
Why!—I'm all i'th' dark yet.
Myſ.
Know then thou peerleſs blockhead,
Your ſcoundrel, would he were choaked,
With his quips, and his quillets
And running his rigs
With both your daughters has intrigues
Nay here, read but theſe billets—
Sil.
Pſha! put them in your pocket
Did not the ſacred oak,
Myſ.
I mock it—
Sil.
[43]Swear to me, on his conſcience
That by Pol's means—
Myſ.
His means!—what nonſenſe!—
But I've a plot ſhall make you rue,
And keep the houſe too hot for you;
Don't be ſurpriz'd, if on the ſudden,
Your minion give the crow a pudding
Soon mounted in the air, if
You chance to ſee the cudden
A caper cut before the ſheriff.
AIR XVIII. To an Italian Opera tune.
The wolf that ſlaughter'd finds her whelps,
With bowlings fills the foreſt,
Their murtherer tracks with ſhrilleſt yelps,
All food neglecting or reſt.
So my revenge ſhall Pol purſue,
I'll cloſely watch his waters;
'Tll at the gallows tree he rue
The wrongs he did my daughters.
Exit.
Enter (to Sil.) Pol.
Sil.
Gad's bud, I dread her vengeance
An angry woman to deſtroy
What ſhe hates, would employ
The devil, and all his emgines.
ſees Pol.
Pol, here's a ſtorm a brewing.
Old Pan, and our Myſis
Are hatching devices
To perpetrate your ruin.
Pol.
Alas, what have I done—poor ſtranger!
Won't you protect me, ſir, from danger?
Sil.
Tut, they ſhall find I ken 'em,
And on themſelves can turn their venom,
Exit.
Pol.
[44]Poor fools! how weak, how ſhallow
Are all your plots againſt Apollo.
Theſe clowns I pity—but my ſpleen 'twill pamper
Midas and Pan to hamper,
Their projects to quaſh
And their pride to abaſh,
When all my rays burſt on them with one flaſh.
How I ſhall laugh, when huddled in a clu [...]ter,
They ſtare, gaping like ſtuck pigs at my luſtre.
AIR XIX. When Faries dance round on the graſs.
When fairies dance round on the graſs
And revel to night's awful noon,
Each elf with his tight little laſs
Trips to the pale light of the moon,
If't chance that the grey dawn of day
Peep in on their frolicks too ſoon,
In fright they all ſcuttle away,
And follow the glimpſe of the moon.
(As he is going off, enter Daphne on one ſide, Nyſa on the other, both run to him.)
RECITATIVE.
Daph.
O Pol! the fat's all in the fire!
Nyſ.
Such banging
In ſtore for us.
Daph.
For you no leſs than hanging.
Pol.
The devil there is!—what means this ſad haranguing?
Daph.
Fly, falſe deluder.
Nyſ.
Quick, take leg, deceitful—
Pol.
Take leg, and quit my girls! that were ungrateful.
[45] AIR XX. To it's own tune.
My heart ſo o'er flow'th,
With love for you both,
That it cannot find room for fear,
Not the halter
Can alter
The paſſion that's rooted here.
Daphne and Nyſa together.
Daph.
I ſcorn and deteſt
Double love in one breaſt
Nyſ.
Such love is a jeſt
In vain you proteſt.
Daph.
Such a love is not worth my care
Nyſ.
For your vows are falſe as air.
Daph.
Ay go dangle
I could mangle.
Nyſ., Pol.
Oh how I burn!
Yes, to tyburn,
Don't ſuſpect me,
Or reject me.
Daph.
What heart without ſhedding a tear,
Nyſ., Pol.
I'd eſcort you with pleaſure my dear,
What gallows ſo bad as deſpair.
Why won't you believe me,
Daph.
You want to deceive me.
Nyſ.
Your falſhood ſhall ne'er again grieve me.
Pol.
Take my word, and my oath,
Daph.
You fool us
Cajole us,
Nyſ.
We'll ſhew you
We know you
Pol.
Believe me
That at night I will ſatisfy both.
That at night I will ſatisfy both.
Daph., Nyſ.
How, will you at night ſatisfy both?
No, you never can ſatisfy both.
Exeunt ſeverally.
Dance of Nymphs and Swains.
End of the Second Act.
ACT III.
[46]During the ſymphony, Mercury deſcends, and walks to and fro, tolling a bell, at intervals, as a public cryer; at the cloſe, in broken air, he publiſhes the following advertiſements.
AIR I.
Merc.
O yes, O yes, O yes, this is to give notice.
Loſt, or miſlaid
Or ſtol'n, or ſtray'd,
From the regions over head,
Or reel'd down to earth, when maudlin,
A finical
Coxcombical
Pert, ſmock-fac'd, young godling;
He deals
In ſpells,
And fortunes tells,
Goes ſnacks
With quacks,
And trades
With jades,
Prying
Spying,
Pratt'ling
Tatt'ling
Up ſtairs, down ſtairs ratt'ling.
[47] His carotty locks
As red as a fox;
As a ſwitch tall and thin
Ne'er a rag to his ſkin,
And anſwers to the name of Apollo.
Enter Pol.
RECITATIVE.
Pol.
Huſh ribald cur, this bawling
Unleſs you wiſh a mawling!
Heaven's, what a ſink of ſlander your foul throat is!
Mer.
Oh are you there, maſter Apollo?
My elbow itch'd; I gueſs'd at what would follow.
Pol.
Sirrah, you are a rogue beneath my notice.
AIR II. Kiſs me faſt my mother's coming.
Fine times, when each little
Pimping, upstart court lick-ſpittle
Worth diſgrac'd dares hack and whittle
Shafts of malice throwing.
See the game cock's creſt with mud upon't;
Strait the dunghill breed grows proud upon't,
Each bare beak
It's ſpleen will wreak,
All clapping wings, and crowing.
[48]RECITATIVE.
Mer.
Come come, let's buſs, and friends.
Pol.
Not 'till I curry your mungril hide.
Merc.
Poo, let's ſhake hands, my hurry
Barr'd compliments.—Pray, pray, 'twas joke—I'm ſorry.
Jove's in a raging fume, a pelting chafe!
Oh! 'tis ſuch fun, would make even Pluto laugh!
Pol.
Do, let me know't.—I long, for his late kindneſs
To have him on the hip.
Merc.
Hark then.—His highneſs,
Safe as he thought himſelf from your inquires,
Sruck up an aſſignation with Miſs Iris:
Juno o'er heard it all—
Pol.
—So had them track'd,
I do ſuppoſe, and caught them in the fact.
Merc.
Ah, madam's an old hand:—ſhe better judging,
Lock'd Iris up, and ſlipt into her lodging;
Lay ſnug—far'd well—ne'er cried, roaſt meat, but chuckled,
While old Twangdillo dub'd himſelf a cuckold.
AIR III. Nancy Dawſon.
The Gods were all call'd in to ſee
How fond a huſband Jove could be:
He ſtrom'd; ſhe laughed, yet, rouguiſhly
Pretended to conceal it.
His fury roſe to ſuch a pitch,
He call'd her lewd, caſe-harden'd witch,
Swore, to his girls he'd stick like pitch,
And wench in open day-light.
[49]RECITATIVE.
Pol.
Oh I ſhall burſt!—a pious reſolution!
Means he to put it ſtrait in execution?
Merc.
Now, now; your pardon's ſign'd; on double wages
You're to light up, and run, your uſual ſtages:
So mount your box, old geeho, I adviſe you
Reſume your taſk diurnal,
He threatens t' advertiſe you
In every weekly Journal.
Pol.
Well, I've a wench, or two—you under⯑ſtand me—
And a drole counter plot ſome knaves to catch,
Which in a trice, I will diſpatch,
And then he may command me.
AIR IV. DUETTO.
Pol.
A monarch may huff,
A ſenate may rage
In edicts too bluff,
In ſpeeches ſo ſage!
The miniſter glib
While he gives himſelf
Thinks how he may crib
For his private affairs.
Merc.
Theſe fatal miſtakes
Call aloud for redreſs;
Conſider few rakes
Would their own ribs careſs.
A wife in the dark
Only ſquanders her charms,
Who, 'ſtead of her ſpark,
Finds her ſpouſe in her arms.
Pol.
[50]But I'll diſplay
And ſoon ſet to rights
In open day
Such unfair bites.
Cuckolds then will know their friends,
And, in like coin may make amends.
Merc.
When our great ſir, ſhall
Once fix the mode,
Horns univerſal
Will ſpread abroad,
And cuckoo that word of fear,
Familiar grow to marry'd ear.
Pol and Mercury together.
Pol.
But I'll diſplay
Merc.
When our great ſir
Pol.
And ſoon ſet to rights
Merc.
Shall once fix the mode
Pol.
In open day
Merc.
Horns univer-
Pol.
Such unfair bites
Mer.
-Sal will ſpread abroad
Pol.
Cuckolds then will know their friends
Merc.
And cuckoo that word of fear,
Pol.
And, in like coin may make amends
Merc.
Familiar grow, to marry'd ear.
Mercury re-aſcends, and Pol Exit.
[51] SCENE Midas's Parlour. Midas, Myſis, and Pan, diſcovered in conſulta⯑tion over a large bowl of punch, pipes and tobacco.
RECITATIVE.
Mid.
Come, Pan, your toaſt.—
Pan.
Here goes, our noble Umpire,
Myſ.
And Pol's defeat—I'll pledge it in a bum⯑per.
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 wou'd you but ſtoutly ſtickle,
This Pol would ſoon be in a wretched pickle.
Pan.
You reaſon right—
Mid.
His toby I ſhall tickle
Myſ.
Look, Squire, I've ſold my butter, here it's price is
At your command, do but this jobb for Myſis.
Count 'em.—Six guineas and an old jacobus
Keep Pan, and ſhame that ſcape-grace coram no [...]us.
[52] AIR V. Baaltiorough.
Mark what I ſay you'll repent if
Conſcience's qualms you attend to;
You a great ſhire's repreſentative
And not one job for a friend do?
Rouze up, nor thus your grave noddle ſhake,
[...] off this tatterdemallion,
We'll ſtick to Pan, his party take,
For Pol's a paltry raſcallion.
RECITATIVE.
Pan.
(aſide)
The juſtice in quandary!—Gad, we have him.—
Gammer, Pol's pipe is out; brandy can't ſave him.
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's
Your ſure card,
Blood, he ſhall fly his country—that's enough.
AIR VI. To its own Tune.
If in the courts your ſuit depend,
Or a cauſe you'd fain do hurt in,
Be ſure you make the judge your friend
By a tip behind the curtain.
Then decree goes
Plump againſt your foes,
Tho' before it ſeem'd uncertain.
[53]RECITATIVE.
Pan.
Well ſaid, my lad of wax—ſince you're ſo mettled
I'll have one tryal with this fop—that's ſettled.
A word i' your ear—You'll find it no hard matter,
When ſhe'as loſt Pol, to nab our crony's daughter.
AIR VII. Ligurum Cuſs.
As ſoon as her doating piece fairly is ſped,
Do you make your puſh, and a ſtout one:
For now ſhe has got a ſweetheart in her head,
She'll never be eaſy without one;
Rever'd by the ſhepherds, careſs'd by the nymphs,
No dread or remorſe ſhall come o'er us,
At ſeſſions, in ſpite of the law and its imps,
We'll kick the whole country before us.
RECITATIVE.
Mid.
Ha! ha! ſit down, and make an end o'th' tankard,
I have no head for buſineſs till I've drank hard.
Pan.
Nor have my brains guts in them till they're addle,
When I'm moſt rocky I beſt ſit my ſaddle.
Myſ.
I always chuck a priming at the tap, or
A cogue of Nantzy, juſt to oil my clapper.
Mid.
Well come, let's take one bouze, and roar a catch,
Then part to our affairs.—
Pan.
A match.
Myſ.
A catch.
[54] AIR VIII. A Catch. Cold and Raw.
Mid.
Master Pol
And his toll-de roll-loll,
I'll buffet away from our plain, ſir;
Pan.
And I'll aſſiſt
Your worſhip's fiſt
With all my might and main, ſir;
Myſ.
And I'll have a thump,
Tho' he is ſo plump,
And makes ſuch a woundy racket.
Mid.
I'll bluff,
Pan.
I'll rough,
Myſ.
I'll huff,
Mid.
I'll cuff,
Omn.
And I warrant we pepper his jackett.
Cho.
I'll bluff, &c.
Mid.
For all his cheats
And wenching feats
He ſhall rue on his knees 'em,
Or ſkip, by goles,
As high as Paul's,
Like ugly witch en 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.
O rare!
And I'll warrant we pepper his jacket.
Chor. I'll ſwear, I'll ſnare, &c.
[Exeunt.]
[55] SCENE Diſcovers Sileno and Damaetas in warm argu⯑ment, on the lawn before Midas's houſe.
RECITATIVE.
Sil.
My Daphne a wife for thee! the ſquire's baſe Pandar!
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 by thy coffers?
Dam.
And ſhall this ditch-born whelp, this jackanapes.
By dint of congees and ſcrapes—
Sil.
Theſe are thy ſlanders and that canker'd hag's.—
Dam.
A thing made up of pilfer'd rags—
Sil.
Richer than thou with all thy brags
Of flocks, and herds, and money bags.
AIR X. DUETTO.
If a rival thy character draw
In perfection he'll find cut flaw,
With black he will paint
Make a devil of a ſaint
And change to an Owl a Maccaw.
Dam.
Can a father pretend to be wiſe
Who his friend's good advice will deſpiſe?
Who, when danger is nigh,
Throws his ſpectacles by
And blinks thro' a green girl's eyes?
Sil.
[56]Your an impudent pimp and a grub,
Dam.
You are fool'd by a beggarly ſcrub;
Your betters you ſnub.
Sil.
Who will lend me a club,
This inſolent fellow to drub?
Your an impudent pimp and a grub,
Dam.
Your cajol'd by a beggarly ſcrub
Sil.
Who will rot in a powdering tub,
Dam.
Whom the prince of impoſtor's 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
Sil.
Rub off, ſirrah, rub, ſirrah, rub.
Dam.
Is debauch'd by a whip'd ſyllabub.
Enter Myſis attended by Dapne and Nyſa.
RECITATIVE.
Myſ.
Soh!—you attend the tryal,—we ſhall drive hence
Your vagabond—
Sil.
I ſmoke your foul contrivance
Daph.
Ah Ny, our fate depends upon this iſſue—
Nyſ Daph.
—for your ſake, my claim I here forgo.
And with your Pol, much joy I wiſh you.
Daph.
O, 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.
Mama will ſtorm,
Nyſ.
What then, ſhe can but whack us.
[57] AIR XI. Quintetto. Viens que I'Examine-a-
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.
Daph.
Think of his charming grace
His voice, ſhape, and face;
Nyſ.
Hearts alarming;
Daph.
Boſoms warming
With his ſoft lay:
Nyſ.
He's ſo charming
Ah, let him ſtay.
Both.
He's ſo charming, &c.
Myſ.
Sluts, are you loſt to ſhame?
Sil.
Wife, wife, be more tame.
Myſ.
This is madneſs!
Sil.
Sober ſadneſs!
Myſ.
I with gladneſs
Cou'd ſee him ſwing,
For his badneſs,
Sil.
'Tis no ſuch thing.
Dam.
[58]Muſt Pan reſign, to this fop, his em⯑ployment?
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 ſhan't budge,
Myſ.
You lye
Dam.
You lye
Myſ., Dam., Sil.
You lye, you lye.
Nyſ.
Pan's drone is fit for wild rocks and bleak mountains
Daph.
Pol's lyre ſuits beſt our cool groves and clear fountains.
Nyſ.
Pol is young and merry
Daph.
Light and airy
Sil.
As a fairy
Nyſ.
Pan is old and ruſty
Daph.
Stiff and fuſty
Sil.
Sowre and muſty
Daph.
Can you baniſh Pol?
Nyſ.
No, no, no, no.
Let Pan fall
Daph.
Ay, let him go.
Nyſ., Daph., Sil.
Ay, let him go.
Myſ.
[59]Muſt Pan reſign, to this fop, his em⯑ployment?
Nyſ.
Pan 's drone is fit for wild rocks and bleak mountains
Dam.
Muſt I to Pol, yield of Daph. the enjoyment?
Daph.
Pol 's lyre ſuits beſt our cool groves and clear fountains.
Myſ.
Ne'er while a tongue I brandiſh
Daph.
Pol is young and merry
Nyſ.
Pan is old and ruſty.
Myſ.
Fop outlandiſh
Daph.
Light and airy
Nyſ.
Stiff and fuſty
Myſ.
Daph ſhall blandiſh
Daph.
As a fairy
Nyſ.
Sour, and cruſty
Dam.
Will you reject my income?
Myſ.
Herds and clincum
Nyſ.
Never think e'm
Sil.
Rot and ſink 'em
Daph.
Can you baniſh Pol?
Myſ.
Midas muſt judge,
Nyſ.
No, no.
Dam.
And Pol muſt fly
Daph.
Pray let Pan fall,
Sil.
Zounds, Pol ſhan't budge
Nyſ.
Ay let him go
Myſ.
You lye, you lye
Nyſ.
Yes, he ſhall go
Daph.
Ay, let him go
Sil.
Blood, Pan ſhall go
Dam.
Poor Pan! poor I!
Myſ.
You lye, you lye.
[60] Midas comes forth enrag'd, attended by a crowd of Nymphs and Swains.
RECITATIVE.
Mid.
Peace ho! is hell broke looſe? what means this jawing?
Under my very noſe this clapper clawing!
AIR XII. Kettle Bender.
What the devil's here to do
Ye logger heads, and gypſies?
Sirrah you, and huſſey you
And each of you tipſey is.
But I'll ſure pull down your pride as
A gun, or as I'm juſtice Midas.
CHORUS All.
O Tremendous juſtice Midas,
Who ſhall oppoſe wiſe juſtice Midas
All fall proſtrate.
Mid.
I'm given to underſtand that your all in a pother here
Diſputing whether Pan or Pol, ſhall play to you another year.
Dare you think your clumſey lungs ſo proper to decide as
The delicate ears of juſtice Midas?
Cho.
O Tremendous, &c.
[61]RECITATIVE.
Mid.
Soh! you allow it then—Ye mobbiſh rabble?
Enter Pol. and Pan. ſeverally.
Oh, here comes Pol, and Pan—now ſtint your gabble.
Fetch my great chair—I'll quickly end this ſquabble.
AIR XIII. To it's own tune.
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 ſhew his noſe here
But be tranſported like a thief.
Cho.
O Tremendous, &c.
[62]RECITATIVE.
Dam.
Maſters, will you abide by this condi⯑tion,
Pan.
I aſk no better
Pol.
—I am all ſubmiſſion.
Pan.
Strik up, ſweet Sir,
Pol.
—Sir, I attend your leiſure
Mid.
Pan, take the lead,
Pan.
—Since 'tis your worſhip's plea⯑ſure.
AIR XIV.
A pox of your pother about this or that,
Your ſhrieking or ſqueaking ſharp or a flat;
I'm ſharp by my bumpers, you're 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' the Wiſp the fools ſcamper,
Ding dong, in ſing ſong, they the lady extol;
Pray what's all this fuſs for, but—Toll de roll, &c.
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 lol de roll.
I've done, pleaſe your worſhip, 'tis rather too long,
I only meant life is but an old ſong;
The world's but a tragedy, comedy, droll,
Where all act the ſcene of Toll loll de rol lol.
[63]RECITATIVE.
Mid.
By jingo, well perform'd for one of his age;
How, hang dog, don't you bluſh to ſhew 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.
Midas falls aſleep.
AIR XV.
Ah, happy hours, how fleeting
Ye danc'd on down away;
When my foft 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.
RECITATIVE.
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.
[64]RECITATIVE.
Mid.
All bow with me to mighty Pan—en⯑throne him.—
No pouting—and with feſtal chorus crown him!—
[The crowd forms 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 guittar,
While, with ecchoing ſhouts of praiſe
We the bagpipe's glory raiſe.
RECITATIVE.
Mid.
'Tis well!—what keeps you here—you ragamuffin?
Go trudge—or do you wait for a good cuffing?
RECIT. accompanied.
Pol.
Now, liſten all—The wrath of Jove, for rapine,
Corruption, luſt, pride, fraud, there's no eſcaping.
Tremble, thou wretch—Thou'ſt ſtretch'd thy ut⯑moſt tether,
Thou, and thy tools ſhall go to pot together.
[65] AIR XVII. To various Tunes.
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.
Grand CHORUS.
Mid.
Detected, baulk'd, and ſmall,
On our marrow bones we fall.
Myſ.
Detected, baulk'd, and ſmall,
On our marrow bones we fall.
Dam.
Detected, baulk'd, and ſmall,
On our marrow bones we fall.
Myſ.
Be merciful,
Alas, alas!
Dam.
Be pitiful,
Alas, alas!
Mid.
Forgive us, mighty Sol,
Alas, alas!
Pol.
Thou a Billingſgate quean,
to Myſ.
Thou a pandar 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.
Mid., Mys., Dam.
Alas! Alas!
Daph.
Now my heart's cur'd of folly.
Nyſ.
—Be jolly.
Sil.
The Oracle's word
For millions ſhould paſs.
Myſis is well parted,
Daph.
And the pimp carted,
Nyſ.
[66]Squire. Midas converted
Into an aſs, O the dull aſs!
Daph., Sil., Myſ., Dam., Apollo.
All together, but to ſeveral airs, while Midas joins in chorus, braying like an aſs.
Into an aſs, laugh at the aſs!
Into an aſs, a real aſs!
What a ſad aſs,
Alas, alas!
Be thou an aſs.
Apol.
Be thou ſquire—his eſtate
to Sil.
To thee I tranſlate.
To you his ſtrong cheſts, wicked maſs,
to Daph. & Nyſa.
Live happy, while I,
Recall'd to the ſky,
Make all the Gods laugh at Midas.
Apol., Dam., Mid., Mys., Daph., Nyſ., Sil.
Together, to ſeveral airs.
All the Gods laugh at Midas.
Aſcends in the Sun.
Alas, Alas!
Exit.
[Goes about braying like an aſs]
What a ſad paſs—Ah, poor Midas.
Chang'd to an aſs—Well bray'd Midas.
Well bray'd Midas; manifeſt aſs.
Laugh at the aſs; laugh at the aſs.
GRAND CHORUS.
Daph., Sil., Nyſ.
Together, with the other nymphs and ſwains.
To the bright God of day
Let us dance, ſing, and play,
Clap hands every lad with his 'laſs.
Daph.
Now criticks lye ſnug,
Not a hiſs, groan, or ſhrug,
Remember the fate of Midas, Midas,
Remember the fate of Midas.
CHORUS.
Now criticks lye ſnug, &c.
FINIS.
- Citation Suggestion for this Object
- TextGrid Repository (2020). TEI. 4277 Midas an English burletta As it is performed at the Theatre Royal in Covent Garden. University of Oxford Text Archive. . https://hdl.handle.net/21.T11991/0000-001A-5DAB-C