« AnteriorContinuar »
JOHN DOE AND RICHARD ROE.
(c. DIBDI2T, JUS.)
Do you know Johnny Doe, And the fam'd Richard Roe, Two terrible brothers in law sir? Because if you don't I hope that you won't Be hookd by their terrible claw, sir? O, it's a terrible. &c. A confounded terrible, &c. 'And their talons ne'er fail Each poor devil to nail, Within reach of their terrible claw, sir.
More captures they've made
They 've all their own way, &c.
To issue and people the fleet, sir.
84 KITTY MAGGS AND JOLTEIl GILES.
Of want tho' they know you have plenty,,
Ton my honor, they'll, &c.
May these brothers in law,
With their terrible claw,
And perhaps a good thing
For the nation and king,
With a drop of good stuff,
We should live long enough,
KITTY MAGGS AND JOLTER GILES.
(C. DIBI>1N, JUS.)
Kitty Maggs was a servant to Farmer Styles,
And a buxom wench was she; And her true lovier was Jolter Giles,
A ploughman so bold was he;
Ding dong, bo!
Which caught fickle Jolter's eye;
Mourn'd his incon-stan-ey!
At the supper Giles gave for Betty his bride,
An apple pudding had they, And from the same bough on which poor Kitty died
The apples were pluck'd they say; The pudding pies on it, grew deadly cold! The death watch tick'd, and the church bell toll'd! Ding dong, bo!
Torarve the pudding was Giles's post,
He cut. and from the gap,. Popp'd the head of poor dear Kitty Maggs's ghost,
All in a new fashion'd shroud cap: Said Giles, • Who be you?' said the ghost, 'I be I, A coming to punish your par-ju-ry." Ding dong. bo!
'0 Kitty' said Jolter, 'pray alter your note!'
'Ivon't." the ghost replied; When plump flew the pudding down Giles's throat,
And on the spot he died. Now his ghost,once a year.bolting puddings is seen, While blue devils sing, every mouthful between, Ding dong, bo!
As Thomas was cudgell'd one day by his wife,
rabble; Then ventur'd to give him some wholesome advice: But Tom is a fellow of honour so nice, '%
Too proud to take counsel, too wise to take warning, That he sent to all three a challenge next morning. He fought with all three, thrice be ventur'd his life; —Then went home and was cudgell'd again by his wife. I
LORD B. AND THE EUNUCH.
A Lord, most musically mad,
Ask'd a squeal eunuch to his house one day—
Which art had giv'n, and time had stol'n away.
'Signor Squalini,' with a solemn air,
The lord began, grave rising from his chair,
Taking Squalini kindly by the hand; 'Signor Squalini, much 1 fear 'I 've got a most unlucky ear,
* And that 'tis known to all the music band.
'Fond of abuse, each fiddling coxcomb carps,
'Indeed, Signor Squalini, 'tis no hum;
'The hautboys from the double drum.
'Now tho' with lords, a number of this nation, 'I go to op'ras, more through fashion
* Than for the love of music, I could wish 'The world might think I had some little taste, 4 That those two ears were tolerably chaste,
'But, sir, I am as stupid as a fish.
'Get me the credit of a cognoscente,
'Gold shan't be wanting to content ye.'—
'Bravissimo! my lor,' replied Squalini,
With acquiescent bow, and smile of suavity; 'De nobleman must never look de ninny,'— 'True,' cry'd the noble lord with German gravity.
LORD B. AND THE EUNUCH. 87
'My lor, ven men vant money in der purse,
'Because, my lor, dat be von shabby curse;
'Right,' cry'd his lordship, in a grumbling tone,
Much like a mastiff jealous of his hone.
'But first I want some technicals, signor'— Bowing, the eunuch answer'd—'Iss, my lor;.
f I teash your lorship queekly, queekly, all, 'Dere vat be call de sostcnuto note, 'Dat be ven singer open vide.detroat,
'And den for long time makede squawl— 'Mush long, long note, dat do continue vile 'A man, my lor, can valk a mile.
'My lor, der likewise becd cromatiquc, 'As if de singer vas in greef, or sick,
'And had de colick—dat be ver, ver fine; 'De high, oh, dat, musician call soprano; 'De low voice, basso; de soff note, piano
* Bravoura, queek, bold—here Marchesi shine.
'Dis Mara, too, and Billington, do know— 'Allegro, queek ; Adagio, be de slow;
'Pomposo, dat be manner make deroar: 'Maestoso, dat be grand and noble'ting, 'Mush like de voice of Emperor, or de king;
'Or you, my lor, 'When in do house you make de grand oration, 'For save, my lor, de noble Englis nation.'
Thus having giv'n his lesson, and a bow,
Unravell'd was his lordship's pucker'd brow,
Such is th' effect, when flatt'ries sweet cajole