The golden pippin: an English burletta, in three acts. As it is performed at the Theatre-Royal, Covent-Garden. By the author of Midas.

Table of contents

- [titlepage]

- ADVERTISEMENT.

- Dramatis Personae,

- ACT I. SCENE I.

- ACT II.

- ACT III.

- ERRATUM.

THE GOLDEN PIPPIN.

THE END,

THE GOLDEN PIPPIN: AN ENGLISH BURLETTA, IN THREE ACTS.

As it is performed at the THEATRE-ROYAL, COVENT-GARDEN.

By the AUTHOR of MIDAS.

LONDON: Printed for T. BECKET, in the Strand.

M.DCC.LXXIII.

[Price One Shilling and Sixpence.]

ADVERTISEMENT.

IT is but Justice to the absent Author to declare, in contradiction to many idle Reports, and injurious Paragraphs that in this Piece, as in his former, he only proposed an innocent Burlesque; never thinking Ribaldry, Profaneness, or Personal Satire, a proper Entertainment for the Public, to whose experienced Candour and Indulgence he submits the following BURLETTA.

Dramatis Personae,

MEN.

- JUPITER, Mr. REINHOLD.

- MERCURY, Mr. Du BELLAMY.

- MOMUS, MR. QUICK.

- PARIS, Mr. MATTOCKS.

- The DRAGON, Mr. BURTON.

WOMEN.

- JUNO, Miss CATLEY.

- PALLAS, Mrs. BAKER.

- VENUS, Mrs. MATTOCKS.

- IRIS, Miss VALOIS.

- ERYNNIS, Mr. BAKER.

ACT I. SCENE I.

The Curtain rising, discovers a Splendid Pavilion in the Clouds; JUNO, PALLAS, and VENUS at a Card-Table playing at Tredrille, on one Side a Table, with Goblets, &c. IRIS, in Waiting, During a Symphony, VENUS shuffles and deals. PALLAS frets at her bad Cards.

AIR. TRIO. Franoesco. PALLAS, JUNO, VENUS.

PALLAS.

I Pass—I've done so all the night.

Juno.

I take a King,

I take a King.

Ven.

Pray, Ladies, stay.

Pray, Ladies, stay.—I'll play alone.

Juno., Pal.

Again?—Bless me—again!

Juno., Pal.

Again!

Ven., Pal.

Di'monds are Trumps.

Ven., Pal.

Bless me!—again?

Juno., Pal. (to Venus)

You scarcely Pass one hand in ten.

Juno., Pal. (peevishly)

The Cards owe me a spite.

Juno., Pal. (to Venus)

This Lady knows you;—so do I.

You dealt the Cards—and we could spy.

Ven. (throws down her game)

The Vol is won.

The Vol is won—with Matadors.

Pal.

Spadille at bottom—O fie!

Ven., Juno.

With Matadors.

Ven., Juno. (to Pallas)

Such hints are shocking, Mâm.

Pal.

Cheats are provoking, Mâm.

Ven., Pal.

Lord, such a rout!

Ven., Pal.

Cheats are provoking, Mâm.

Ven., Juno., Pal. (to Pallas)

Lord, such a rout!

Ven., Juno., Pal. (to Pallas)

Quite shocking—O fie!

Ven., Juno., Pal. (to Pallas)

Cheats are provoking—O fie!

Ven., Pal.

But losers must have leave to pout.

Ven., Pal.

Cheats are provoking, Mâm.

Ven., Juno.

But losers must ha' leave to pout.

Ven., Juno. (to Pallas)

Such terms are shocking, Mâm,

Ven., Pal., Juno.

But losers, &c.

Ven., Pal., Juno.

Cheats are, &c. O fie!

Ven., Pal., Juno.

Such terms, &c. O fie!

(Juno and Pallas rise in heat, and come forward. Venus sits still, counting and pocketing her gains.)

RECITATIVE.

Pal. (mistily)

Hang cards!

Juno.

You're out o' luck!

Pal.

As I'm a sinner!

I haven't—since last Christmas—ris'n a winner.

Juno.

That's hard!—So bad a run may well chagrin one:

Venus is quite a dab.

Pal.

Dab!—She's—a keen one; At all games—plays th' whole game.

Juno.

Aye, aye!

Pal.

Match none has; For sleight of hand,—will slip an ace—with Jonas.

Juno.

Gambles deep too!

Pal.

Well may—who never loses: At Putt, poor girls!—sh' as beggar'd the Nine Muses;

Fine as a Queen o' ginger-bread—parades it;

But ne'er has paid the wages of her Maids yet.

Juno. (laughing)

Like enough—for the Graces,—and 'tis scandalous,

Go mother-naked.

Pal. (with spleen)

Skin-flint!—so to randle us! 'Twould vex a saint.—

AIR II.

Dooralin.

A thriving trade

The nimming jade

Has pick'd up, here, of chousing us;

With sly flim-flams,

And palming shams,

At Brothel learnt, or Bouzing-house!

[Turning to Van. insolently.]

You must purloin,

In duds to shine

So dizen'd—there's no 〈◊〉 wi' you;

But the next coin

You nab of mine,

By Pam! I'll pluck a crow wi' you.

RECITATIVE.

Juno. (in disapprobation)

Nay,—Pallas!

[Venus advances to them, smiling jocosely at Pallas.]

Ven. (in banter)

Miss,—you're—funny, Poor dear!—has't lost it' temper with it' money? ha! ha! ha!

Pal. (exasperated)

Pert chitty face! 'cause leud fops call you—pretty;

You fancy those—patch-clenches—smart—and witty.

Ven. (gibing)

Pretty!—the fools!—do they, indeed?—Ah, tell us.

Pal. (contemptuously)

Conceited moppet!

Ven. (waggishly)

Sure, Miss,—you a'n't jealous.

[Takes out a pocket-glass, and views herself affectedly.]

AIR III.

Laschi and Galluppi.

If I have some—little—beauty—

Can I help it?—No, not I;—

Some good luck too—'tis my duty

Gifts so precious to apply.

Nature—Fortune—gave 'em freely;

And I'll use 'em—quite genteelly.

If the Smarts of the Sky

Cringe, ogle and sigh,

Whene'er I pass by;

And cry,

Looky there!

What an air!

Gods, bow fair!

Pray, why

(To feed your starch'd pride)

Must I go and hide,

'Till you're made a bride?

Who, I?

No, no—If I do, may I die.

RECITATIVE.

Pal. (incensed)

Don't rouze me, Bold-face!—if your tongue's so flippant, I'll take y' a chuck—as shall chop off the tip on't.

[Pallas advances upon her; she takes shelter behind Juno.]

Ven. (in fear, screaming)

I'll swear the peace:—keep at arms-length, Virago!

(To Juno, whimpering)

She'll brain me, Mâm!

Pal. (in spiteful rage)

—Well, had I don't long a-go.

Ven (still whimpering)

Your tongue's no slander—for that, not a button

Care I;—but I can't stand your fist o' mutton.

Juno. (Aside, chuckling)

Nuts to me, This—I hope, 'twill be a scuffle;

(to them)

My stars! what was't cou'd thus your tempers ruffle?

Pal.

Her gibes,

Ven.

Her rants.

Pal.

Don't snouch then!

Ven.

Don't you hector!

Juno. (taking each by the hand)

Faults on both sides—sit down—come, I'll direct here.

And Iris!—stir, wench!—fill about the nectar.

Pal. Venus—

your quips would Patient Grisel canker,

Howe'er, shake hands!

Ven. (giving her hand)

Here, Miss, I bear no rancour.

AIR IV. Touch the Thing, you Bastard.

(All sit, and Iris serves them with Nectar.

Juno (sings;)

When bickrings hot,

To high words got,

Break out at Gamiorum;

The flame to cool,

My Golden Rule

Is—Push about the Jorum.

With fist on jug,

Coifs who can lug?

Or shew me that glib speaker,

Who her red rag

In gibe can wag,

With her mouth full of liquor.

(They all drink.)

(Exeunt, merrily singing in Chorus)

The Golden Rule

Is—Push about the Jorum.

Scene closes.

SCENE changes to a Wild Heath.

Enter Momus, in the habit of the Antique Court Jester. Walks to and fro impatiently.

RECITATIVE accompanied.

Mom.

By Jingo! if Erynnis—from the Hesperides,

Steals me the Dragon's Apple-we'll ha'merry days. Augh!—ho!—oa!—

(yawning and stretching)

Court's grown damn'd hum-drum:—Jove, poor Noodle!

Does nought but muddle.—

Juno too—turn'd so—mim, forsooth, Butter will scarce melt in her mouth.

But th' Apple—yes—I'll throw—that squib among 'em—

Shall stir the humours—as a wasp had stung 'em,

AIR V. Behind the Bush in the Garden,

To set at odds

These hair-brain'd Gods,

The turn of a straw or a pin does;

I make them fret,

Take pet,

Curvet,

And fling Heaven out o' the windows.

He, she, soul, handsome, all,

On wires I dance 'em all,

Jove of my puppets but is chief;

Sky, earth, and ocean,

I put in commotion;

I doat on a snug bit o' mischief.

[To him enter running, as from pursuit, Erynnis, holding the Golden Apple in her hand, and habited as an old witch.]

RECITATIVE.

Ery.

Here, Momus, 'tis—at last;—I'm all o'er dripping.

Mo.

Good Hag!—Now quick, to Juno's palace tripping,

Amongst the three Sultanas drop this Pippin.

Ery.

That Dragon! Oh! we've had a-do most hellish,

Burn him!—for Pippins he has spoil'd my relish.

Mo.

No fear;—I'll fool him with some rigma-rol,—

Pat on his back, and scratch his pol.—

Ery.

But I—(in terror)

Mo.

You—must plump down to Hell,—to Pluto;

I've writ a card to him.—

Ery. (trembling)

Any where,—in tuto.

[The Dragon is heard roaring.]

Mo.

Off! off!

[She takes to her heels, Momus skulks aside.—Enter impetuously the Dragon, searching on every side, during the symphony, to find her—then]—.

AIR VI. Francesco.

Dra.

Stop thief! Stop thief!

My Pippin!—Boh!—the varlet!—

Hoh!—I'm out of breath!—

Boh!—Could I clutch that harlot,

Who wrought my grief,

I'd be her death;

Stop thief! Stop thief! Stop thief!

Momus comes forth, and accosts him familiarly.

Mo.

Ha,—my old friend!—how is't?

Dra.

Saw you that Beldam Erynnis scamper by?

Mo.

Faith, Sir,—she—seldom Visits these parts:—yet pass'd—within this half-hour,

Hobbling—to Juno,—with some fruit—you—gave her.

Dra.

She lies,—she stole it;—Gave! give her a halter!

Her due,—The thief!—

Mo.

Stole! ay, an old defaulter.—

Sue out a warrant—

Dra.

Sue!—the Queen has got it,—I may go whistle—Piqued,—Repiqued,—Capotted!—

Mo.

Pluck up,—talk big to her,—

(Aside) I'll egg on this hot-head.

AIR VII. DUO.

Francesco.

Fluster,

Bluster,

Strut, Sir.—

Dra.

But, Sir,

She'll picker and rail.

Mo.

Why then roar, and whisk your tail.

Dra.

Oh, Sir,

No, Sir,

Fair words—

Mo.

Bare words

Never will prevail.

Dra.

But I may be sent to Jail.

Mo.

Mouthy, mealy!

Can't I bail ye?

Does your courage fail ye?

Dra.

No; but, Sir,

'Twill make a stir,

And Jove may demur.

And Jove may demur.

Mo.

On my word, be won't demur.

Dra.

Since you say

So, I may

Skur away.

Mo.

Skur.

And be sure you put it home t' her:

Servant, Sir.

Dra.

I shall pelt on, 'till I came t' her,

Whip and spur.

Mo.

And be sure &c. Servant, Sir.

Dra.

I shall pelt, &c. Thank you, Sir.

Exeunt severally, bowing.

SCENE shifts to Juno's Pavilion.

A knocking; then Juno's bell rings vehemently. Enter Iris running. Juno, Pallas, and Venus, enter on the other side.

RECITATIVE.

Juno.

High time, Miss Lazyboots! where ha' you been lolloping?

Iris.

Sure, Mem—at the first tinkle—I came galloping.

Juno.

Who rapp'd?

Iris.

Beau Cupid, Mêm, ask'd for Miss Pallas.

(Exit.)

Pal.

For me? the Whelp!—I'd see him to the Gallows.

Ven.

Gallows! Mâm.

(rising provok'd)

Pal.

Ay—'twill be his prank conclusive, As he goes on.

Ven. (to Juno)

Mâm—she's downright abusive.

AIR VIII.

Giordani. (to Pallas)

But ah! Sweet Miss, your temper keep!

Your Peace my Boy shall ne'er invade;

Cupid shall not break your sleep,

You shall still remain a Maid.

All Ever-green

Be Pallas seen!

Laurels her learned brows adorn!

Baleful yew,

Cypress too!

Roses alone ne'er deck that thorn.

RECITATIVE.

Pal.

I'd mince the blinkard—to a salmagondi.

[Enter Iris in a fright to Juno, THE APPLE in her hand.]

Iris.

Oh! Mêm!

Juno.

Are you bewitch'd, Girl?—What has stunn'd ye?

Hast seen a Ghost—

Iris.

Worse, Mêm—that hag—Erynnis.

Juno.

Got in, d'ye say?—I wou'dn't for five guineas—

Iris.

In troth, I think, that Witch the Devil-in-is.

AIR IX. Sweet, if you love me, &c.

1.

Told by the Porter and the Page,

Not at home—

You'd ha' thought she'd burst with rage.

Skips, I must see the Queen, and will—

Dear Ma'm, says I—the Queen is ill,

Takes James's Powder, and Ward's Pill.

Not at home,

Eccho'd they to all her askings.

2.

To this Pippin bid her smell,

Presents it to Juno.

Bid her smell,

I'll engage she'll soon be well.

I box'd the Fox this morn, says she,

And from th' Hesperian Dragon's Tree

Hoik'd off with 't to her Majesty:

So, bye! bye!

I must fly,

He's hard at my Galligaskins.

Exit.

Juno and Pallas alternately admire the Apple, Venus desiring to look at it.

RECITATIVE.

Ven.

With your leave, Mâm—

Receives and narrowly examines it.

Juno. (to Pallas)

Suppose that three shares equal We make—

Pal.

Oh—that—Erynnis might—not take well.

Ven. (having surveyed it)

Bless us!—'t has grown—with an Inscription on it.

Pal. (in gibe)

Have the snails trac'd a tag of some—French sonnet?

Ven. (nettled)

Nah, Miss; plain English—and to Me directed.

(insulting) A wind-fall, Ladies!—yet—one can't reject it.

So, poz—I will not have—my goods trisected.

Juno. (in surprize)

Yours!

Pal. (with indignation)

Yours!

Ven. (with provoking calmness)

Mine.

both take fire.

Pal. (to Venus, blustering)

By what right?

Juno. (to ditto, with insolence)

What title?—Fool-y'!

Ven. (with scorn)

What—when ye hear—will make you both look bluely.

Reads to them distinctly the Inscription, without RECITATIVE.

TO THE FAIREST IN HEAV'N, BE THIS APPLE GIV'N.

RECITATIVE.

Pal. (to Juno)

Stand clear, Mâm—let me to her—(to Venus) Shut your fly-trap, Your title I'll soon quash else—with a tight rap,

Juno. (interposing)

I bar blows—yet that Fruit I'll have,—depend on't;

'Tis mine, (to Venus) so, give it me—and there's an end on't.

AIR X.

Arne,

Yield; or beware, left rage, disdain,

Resentment fire my mind!

The claim my rank, my charms sustain,

Shall never be resign'd.

RECITATIVE.

Pal. (to Juno)

Nay, Madam!—Sure—my claim's the more undoubted;

So (to Venus) give it me—and say no more about it.

Ven. (gently)

Ladies, for Pow'r, Arms, Arts, I don't dispute ye,

But—all the world (bridling) gives me the crack for Beauty.

AIR XI.

'Twas you, Sir, &c.

My Title, my Title,

Will need no long recital.

Can you,

Or you,

Dispute the prize?

If not—say who.

Pal.

You Maukin, you Maukin!

What signifies your talking?

Don't name

That claim,

If you be wise,

Before us two.

Juno.

Gads me! Gads me!

Such rank conceit! It mads me.

So pert

A Flirt

Shou'd brave the skies!

What's here to do?

Ven.

My Title, &c.

Pal.

You Maukin! &c.

Juno.

Gads me! &c.

RECITATIVE.

Juno.

You Trapes!

Pal.

You Demi-rep! you hatter'd Dowdy, Nam'd of a day with us—you're—

Juno.

Oh! No-body.

Ven. (piqu'd)

Two to one's odds;—but Ladies,—since you crow so,

Let Jove judge.

Juno. (eagerly)

Done!

Pal.

Done!

Ven.

He's a Virtuoso

In female matters.

Pal. (to Juno)

Is he?

Juno.

Troth—but so, so.

[Here they are alarm'd by a tumultuous roaring without. A Symphony of Terror and Confusion; at the close bursts in the Hesperian Dragon. Juno and Venus run into a corner affrighted; Pallas undaunted.]

AIR XII. Pantomime Tune.

Drag.

Fe—Fa—Fum!

I smell a rich perfume:

My Pippin's in this room.

I'll have it Crust and Crumb,

Look ne'er so grum.

Fe—Fa—Fum!

If up with her I come,

I'll strike Erynnis dumb,

And make her pelt—my drum!

[Crawls about roaring, Juno and Venus angry, yet terrified.]

RECITATIVE.

Juno. (from the corner)

Hark y' me, Dragon! you're a saucy fellor!

I'll have ye kick'd down stairs.

Pal. (in rage)

Vap'ring Ale-swiller!

Juno. (to Pallas)

Tip him Medusa's Muz!

Pal. (calling loudly)

Hand here my Aegis!

Dra. (runs to and fro roaring)

Boh!—I'll indict you all—in Banco Regis.

(bob, bob!

[He roars, they scream, Pallas stamps; a rapid Symphony.]

Enter in haste MERCURY.

AIR XIII. Duny.

Merc.

O Death and Hell!

Truce with this yell!

'Blood! why d'ye bawl so?

Keep the King's Peace within these walls, ho!

Ladies! you can't think it civil,

In Heaven to play the Devil!

And you—you frosty-face Dragon!

You, to keep this holly-rag on!

Do spare your lungs

This tear away;

Give your poor tongues

One holiday.

RECITATIVE.

Juno. (strutting up to Mercury)

An' if you go to that—you pert Intruder! By whose authority are you thus rude here?

RECITATIVE accompanied.

Mer.

Don Jove, our thunder-thumping Caliph, From doze at Council-Board, Upstarting with a bounce, Rapp'd out,—Coxnouns! Call me my Bailiff! Scud, Hermes!—fetch me word, Is Billingsgate transferr'd To Juno's Malepardus?—By the Lord, Her Gossips Throats had need be of Bull-leather.

Tell 'em—I'll come—and tole their Jolls together.

AIR XIV. Philidor.

Quintetto.

Finale.

JUNO, VENUS, PALLAS, DRAGON, MERCURY.

Juno., Ven.

I protest,—'tis this Beast—will not rest.

Juno., Ven.

'Tis this Beast—will not rest—I protest.

Pal., Dra.

We've no rest,—not the least,—for this Beast.

Pal., Dra.

That's a jest;—I protest—I'm opprest.

Merc.

Silence!—I request you.

Juno., Ven., Pal., Dra.

I protest, &c.

Juno., Ven., Pal., Dra.

'Tis this Beast, &c.

Juno., Ven., Pal., Dra.

We've no rest, &c.

Juno., Ven., Pal., Dra.

That's a jest, &c.

Merc.

Silence!—or I must arrest you.

Juno., Ven., Pal., Dra.

I protest, &c.

Juno., Ven., Pal., Dra.

'Tis this Beast, &c.

Juno., Ven., Pal., Dra.

We've no rest, &c.

Juno., Ven., Pal., Dra.

Boh! I'm opprest. &c.

Merc.

Hush!—cease, you were best.

You're all possest.

Ven.

Grown so furious,

So injurious,

Calls High Dames

Black guard names—

Pal.

Most injurious.

Ven.

And Heaven makes

Quite a jakes.

Dra.

Say, what names?

Ven.

Theft-receivers,

Juno., Ven.

We Three!

Juno., Ven.

Shelter-givers,

Pilf'ring jobbers,

Snacks with robbers;

Dra.

Hear me!

Ven., Pal.

We,—We?

Ven., Pal.

I'd root the whole garden,

Ven., Pal.

We,—We?

Ven., Pal.

For one fardin.

Juno., Pal., Dra.

We receivers—Shelter givers?

Juno., Pal., Dra.

We—Three?

Juno., Pal., Dra.

Death and blood!

Juno., Pal., Dra.

Pilf'ring jobbers—Snacks with robbers?

Juno., Pal., Dra.

We—Three?

Juno., Pal., Dra.

Restore my goods!

Juno., Ven.

We—We,—We,—We?

Juno., Ven.

We wall-scalers?—We fruit-stealers?

Juno., Ven., Pal.

We,—We,—We,—We?

Juno., Ven., Pal.

We,—We,—We,—We?

Juno., Ven., Pal.

I'd root th' whole garden—for one fardin.

Juno., Ven., Merc.

We,—We,—We,—We?

Juno., Ven., Merc.

We wall-scalers?—We fruit-stealers?

Juno., Ven., Merc.

'Twas politeness,—with a witness.

Juno., Pal., Dra.

We wall-scalers?—We fruit-stealers?

Juno., Pal., Dra.

We—Three?

Juno., Pal., Dra.

For—my—fruit,

Juno., Pal., Dra.

We receivers?—Shelter-givers?

Juno., Pal., Dra.

We—Three?

Juno., Pal., Dra.

I'll—prosecute.

Juno., Ven., Pal., Dra.

We wall scalers?—We fruit-stealers?

Juno., Ven., Pal., Dra.

Reptile—nauseous!

Juno., Ven., Pal., Dra.

They've my Pippin

Juno., Ven., Pal., Dra.

We receivers,—Shelter-givers?

Juno., Ven., Pal., Dra.

Worm—audacious!

Juno., Ven., Pal., Dra.

In their keeping.

Juno., Ven., Dra., Merc.

Yes, receivers,—shelter-givers.

Juno., Ven., Dra., Merc.

No—No.

Juno., Ven., Dra., Merc.

Peace!—Peace!—Zouns!—cease.

Juno., Ven., Pal., Dra.

Yes Receivers.—Yes, Receivers.

Juno., Ven., Pal., Dra.

Yes, I'll firk you, and jerk you, and yerk you.

Juno., Ven., Pal., Dra.

Brawling Pagan! Hell-spawn'd Dragon!

Juno., Ven., Pal., Dra.

No—No—Not—so.

Juno., Ven., Pal., Merc., Dra.

I'll make you fly—I'll know why.

Juno., Ven., Pal., Merc., Dra.

By cock and pie—you vamp or I.

Juno., Ven., Pal., Merc., Dra.

Hence to your fly—or, Filth! you die.

Juno., Ven., Pal., Merc., Dra.

Jove, by and by,—your suit will try.

Juno., Ven., Pal., Merc., Dra.

A lie—a lie,—just cut and dry.

END OF THE FIRST ACT.

ACT II.

SCENE, a Chamber in the Celestial Palace.

[Momus meets the Dragon in Chains, led to Prison by one of the Furies.]

RECITATIVE.

MOMUS.

AH, ah!—in Crib, Sir Drag.?

[laughs.]

Drag. {dolefully}

Now, bail me, Momus!

Mom.

I'd see you hang'd first.

[Exit laughing.]

Drag.

Get along,—and be Curst!—Why did I trust a Courtier's Promise?

AIR I. A Stage Dance Tune.

Fool, feel in grain

Is he,

Fond and vain,

Of brain

Quite dizzy,

Who, when out o'place,

Hopes at Court an embrace.

Nic, th' old fiend,

Will first pretend,

For his own end,

To be your friend

Caught in

The gin

Of sin,

He'll grin

At your disgrace.

The Fury lashes him on. Exeunt.

SCENE changes to Jupiter's Hall of Audience.

Enter Momus laughing.

Mom.

Ha! ha! ha!—ha! ha! ha!

Three Cats—I left 'em at it,—spitting, —scratching,

(Seeing Jupiter) Gadso!

Now, What can that wise Nob be hatching?

(stands aside to observe.)

Jupiter comes forward.

RECITATIVE accompanied.

Jup.

How shall I get this tangled hank unravell'd?

Put to my trumps, and gravell'd!

'Twou'd dumb found, Wizard, Merlin, or Friar Bacon;

Aye, all the Square-caps from Oxford to Pekin.

No making head or tail on't—which way soe'er I turn it—

If I know how to act—I'm a sous'd gurnet.

Ha! that Firebrand Erynnis! (Cou'd I but trap her, With what good will I'd strap her!)

I'll be hang'd, but 'twas she that kick'd this dust up,

None but she—mischief-maker! (The Devil take her!)

Amongst my proud leash of Ninnies.

But—I—for her provide will; Yes—I'll have her fairly truss'd up, Tho' the old Trot shou'd mount for't, Who can call me to account for't?

Or, if not strung—she shall—mill-doll—in Bridewell.

AIR II.

Fischietti.

As Judge, Spouse, Progenitor,

What part shall I take?

My character, as senator,

My name lies at stake.

Says Justice—What d'ye lag on?

For shame!—content the Dragon.

Then whispers Court Favor,

To bilk him will be braver.

What part shall I take?

My choice is kept swinging,

Like Bow-bell a ringing,

Let go—then pull'd back.

Why, let them buff,

And jour and chide!

I'll save my buff,

Whate'er betide.

To shun domestic jangle,

This paltry Pippin-Brangle,

'Fore George! I'll not decide.

[Towards the close of the Air, Momus advances to him.]

RECITATIVE.

Mom.

That's fix'd then.

Jup.

Yes, yes—I've wound up my bottom.

Mom.

Roundly; like a true Solomon— (aside) of Gotham.

Jup.

But how to still their clamours—there's the matter.

Mom.

Depute some Mortal for their Arbitrator; 'Twill pull 'em down a peg.

Jup. (rubbing his bands delighted)

'Twill, 'twill—the sluts!

I'll do't—to fiddle-strings 'twill fret their guts.

Mom.

Oh! they'll cajole you with their Ifs and Buts.

Didn't they coax you in your beer to impris'n The Dragon but for claiming what was his'n?

AIR III.

Cotillon.

When you're bosky, half-seas over,

Doxies wind you as they please;

Thro' their eyes you then discover,

That the Moon's a huge Green-cheese,

They have their wits,

Mind their own bits;

Nick the fit

To wheedle a bit,

With a tip

Of the lip,

And a roguish squeeze.

Jovy, my soul!—

What does it say?—

Fire the North Pole!

Jove's your Valet.—

When you're bosky, &c.

RECITATIVE.

Jup.

I was a green-horn then—no penetration—

But now I'm come to years—

Mom. (aside)

Not—of discretion.—

Mercury enters hastily, and twitches Jupiter's sleeve.

Mer.

Most Doughty—please edge this way.

Jup.

Eh! what mutter y'?

Mer.

The Goddesses—at loggerheads—i' th' Buttery.

Jup.

Fight dog, fight bear—I?—Blood I I've other bus'ness:

Must Jove fit Judge—on Dimples—Snouts—and Pigsnies?

Bid 'em scrub up as clean as hands can make 'em.

Mom.

Shou'd they run rust—

Jup.

By Jericho!—I'd flake 'em.—

(to Mercury) Conduct them, you, to Ida—There young Paris

Shall view, and there give Judgment, which most fair is.

[Jupiter and Momus confer together.]

Merc.

What?—Paris of Troy, That Hobble-de-Hoy, He Lord Chief Justice constituted! If h'as guts in his brains, or in's skull eyes. Sure, sure, this Heav'n-embroiling Prize Cannot be long disputed.

AIR IV.

Fisher. Pallas and Juno,

All who see true, know,

Never, no never can bear the bell.

No, chuck the Gold Pippin

Fair Venus's lip in,

For Venus herself is a Nonpareil.

Exit.

Jupiter and Momus come forward, as continuing their conversation.

RECITATIVE.

Mom.

What comes o'you?

Jup.

Oh! I—after the Inspection—

May call—to hear—which carry'd the Election.

Mom.

Mum!—yonder's Juno— (going)

Jup.

Aye,—my Message—snubs.

Mom.

Now—keep it up—be sure—a few dry rubs

Will give her Majesty—the Mulligrubs.

AIR V. Cotillon Tune.

Since 'tis writ in the volume of Fate,

That to surrender

To the Male Gender,

Females must lay their account soon or late;

She must submit has a God to her Mate.

Bounce, bounce; Juno may flounce,

Storm, and thunder;

She'll knock under:

Rave, rave; Jupiter, rave!

Master you'll be—and your Wife be a slave.

RECITATIVE.

Jup. (as Juno advances)

How now, Dame Partlet?—

Enter Juno, stalking haughtily up to him; her arms a-kimbo.)

(aside) Now—she opes her Budget.

Juno.

So, Sir! Our cause—you scorn, it seems,—to judge it.

Jup.

I wash my hands o't:—woundy ticklish Matters

These!—How decree—'twixt my own Wife and Daughters?

Juno. (resentfully)

Then, Sir, who shall?

Jup. (having ponder'd)

Why,—Paris,—Son of Priam,—

Genimede's Coz—a better Judge than I am.

Juno. (with spleen)

Finely fobb'd off! Had it been Madam Semele—

Jup. (imperiously)

Juno,—go, scold your Maids;—do—mind your Family.

Juno.

No, with all Heav'n for my due I'd grapple.

Were there an Orchard; mine were every Apple.

AIR VI. Arne.

Juno. (affronted.)

With your Wife, Sir, ne'er dispute,

Lady of the Manor she;

Due to her the choicest fruit,

Due to her the branch and tree;

And you know she'll have her right;

Yes, Sir, Morning Noon, and Night.

RECITATIVE.

Jup.

Right!—Stuff!—between us, None has a legal right to it, but Venus.

Juno. (much piqu'd)

Fool that I was, my Husband to refer to!

Venus!

—a sneaking kindness—Goat!—for Her too?—

Jup. (indignant)

My Daughter?

Juno. (with rancour)

Wert your Mother?

Jup. (ironically)

Why my Pet Lamb Ought not go loose—It should be lodg'd in Bedlam.

These Maggots, Child—

Juno. (outrageous)

By each new Trull supplanted!

Jup. (provok'd)

I'll be divorc'd—

Juno. (obstinately)

The very Thing I wanted.

AIR VII. Dûo Finale. Monsignier.

Juno.

Go,

But know,

I'll not be treated so

By you, case-harden'd Bully!

Jup.

Let not your Fury gull y';

I'm no tame, hen-peckt Cully.

Juno.

Ungrateful!

To sacrifice me thus!

Jup.

More hateful

Your jealousy and fuss.

Juno., Jup.

Your Sister—

Juno., Jup.

Wou'd, I'ad mist her!

Juno., Jup.

And your Spouse too!

Juno., Jup. (aside)

A sweet Blowze, too!

Juno.

The Chum you pawn'd your Nuptial

Vows to!

Jup.

Trust my House to,

And my Brows too!

Juno.

A Blister

On your Tongue for't.

Jup.

I'm well stung for't,

Sorely wrung for't.

Juno.

You broke all vows—you hot Bell-swagger!

Jup. (aside)

That's a Dagger,

Sha'n't I gag her?

Juno., Jup.

To see that Num-skull

Juno., Jup. (to her)

These Wipes—

Juno., Jup.

Act the Swan, act the Bull,

Juno., Jup.

Bring stripes.

Juno., Jup.

How Mortals must laugh

Juno., Jup.

Your sides, my Love, itch

Juno., Jup.

At the Goose, at the Calf.

Juno., Jup.

For a taste of the switch.

Juno., Jup.

Your Wife a cast-off sta•e.

Juno., Jup.

Wife Wife those taunts are sta•e.

Juno., Jup.

Yet you can't say black's her nail.

Juno., Jup.

Yet you urge them tooth and nail

Juno., Jup.

I'll not sit down mum chance.

Juno., Jup.

I'll rove, and take my chance.

Juno., Jup.

You shall see the Devil dance.

Juno., Jup.

Tho' I see the Devil dance.

Juno.

More Sacks on the Mill!—No, no,

'Tis a bitter Pill—it kicks.—

Jup.

Jack must have his Jill—I trow;

And, as Jove, I will—ha' fix.

END OF THE SECOND ACT.

ACT III.

SCENE, a Chamber in the Celestial Palace.

JUPITER and MOMUS.

RECITATIVE.

Mom.

I Met 'em—Friesland hens! their feathers brustling

All the wrong way.

(laughs)

Jup.

That's what they get by bustling On the High-horse with Me—

Mom.

Poor Venus said nought.

Jup.

True——But—for my Jezebel, and yond' Miss Dreadnought—

AIR I.

Handel.

I'll taw them soft as old glove,

The Drabs shall know I'm Czar above;

I wonder hence

This impudence,

To maunder at the will of Jove.

Mine are the reins—and to the bit,

Tag, Rag, and Bob-tail, shall submit.

Exeunt.

SCENE, MOUNT IDA. Paris is discovered admiring his own Finery.

RECITATIVE.

Par.

C'est quelque chose cela—no more a Rustick scrubbish,

Paris at Court has dusted off his Rubbish.

AIR II.

Arne.

But now let me flaunt it,

Rant flirt it, and jaunt it,

Gallant it, and dress it away;

At Op'ra and Ball,

Play, Concert, and All,

I warrant I carry the day.

I'll make the Folks stare

By clubbing my Hair;

I'll ogle, I'll prattle,

The Dice box I'll rattle,

Lose thousands, and call it mere Sport;

While Men all admire me,

All Ladies desire me,

Sweet Paris, the Pink of the Court!

Paris turns, and spies Mercury advancing. What chap comes here? trick'd out so nicely!

Enter to him Mercury. (He stands bowing at a distance.) Dem' mauvaise honte—So thus—concisely.

AIR III. DUET. Francesco.

Par.

Mon Enfant—ecoutez.

Merc.

Royal Swain, what d'ye say?

Par.

If I may conjecture,

By garb, gait, and aspect, you're Francois.

Merc.

Nay, nay.

Par.

Au Moins—You've made the Tour.

Merc.

No sure.

Your Highness means to flatter.

Par.

Pardonnez-moi—This Hat here

Paris Cock—

Merc.

No such matter.

Par.

Those Pumps too—diantre!—curious.—

Merc.

Jove's Son, Sir—(bowing)

Par.

Vous?

Merc.

Yes; spurious

Controller of his Pages,

And bear his Love-Messages.

Par.

Quoi? Merky!—ah! le drole!

Merc.

The same—upon my soul,

At your command.

Par.

I kiss your Hand.

RECITATIVE.

Par.

But whence—and whither now?

Merc.

My Errand At present is—

Par. (taking snuff)

To me—I warrant.

Merc.

E'en so.

Par. (with extravagant airs of vanity)

With my poor person smitten?

Merc. (shaking his head)

No, Sir—a matter—You'd scarce hit on.

This Apple—(produces the Golden Apple)

Par. (much mortified)

Aye.

Merc.

(Tho' no nice Fruit 'tis) Has set by the ears three tip-top Beauties.

Th' Inscription—there's the bone—

Par. (reads it)

To THE FAIREST!

Merc.

'Till that point's settled—Heav'n can ne'er rest.—

Juno,

Miss Pallas Venus—stiffly

Lay claim to't—

Par.

Well—mon cher!

Merc.

Why, briefly—

You're nam'd their Judge—

Par. (eyeing it contemptuously)

A precious bawble To set three Goddesses—at squabble!

AIR IV.

Bryan.

A Goddess, like an earthly Dame,

In trifles will precedence claim;

Denied, foul language will bestow,

And turn from dearest Friend to Foe.

RECITATIVE.

Par.

But why to me this Beauty-reference?

Merc.

You, Sir, Jove knows,—can guess the difference—

Betwixt—a Nymph—and a Nut-cracker—

Par.

Not half so well as he,—th'old Smacker!

Merc.

Him they'd think partial,—interested, Therefore in you his Pow'r is vested.

Par.

What Jeopardy?—My Case quite desperate?—

Can please but one,—two must exasperate!—

Merc.

Do as you like—but—leave off prating.

You keep their Goddessships a-waiting.

Exit.

(Paris alone, after meditation,)

Good Jove, direct me!

Since in this task

I'm but your mask,

I hope, Sir, you'll protect me.

Re-enter Mercury, leading Juno, whom be announces most ceremoniously. She advances with over-strained haughtiness.

RECITATIVE.

Merc.

Queen Juno, Sir, (bows) Jove's Consort—

Juno. (imperiously)

Less Palaver.

We've other fish to fry—(beckons Mercury away; be sneaks off.

Par. (tripping familiarly to kiss her)

Ma'am,—by your Favour—

(She draws back with indignation.

Juno.

Meat for your Lord!—I thought you better knew me.

Par. (aside)

La fiere!—a three-pil'd Prude, consume me!

Juno. —(haughtily)

Lad, don't you feel yourself, at times, ambitious Of Pow'r—and Wealth?

Par.

Ma foi! they're both delicious.

Juno.

Both you may have—

Par.

Comment!

Juno.

For me pass Sentence, And you will bless your Stars for our Acquaintance.

AIR V.

Giordani.

On Nabob's Throne despotick,

O'er Omrabs thou shalt blaze;

Thy pomp, thy pow'r exotick

The trembling East amaze;

Then shall the Chiefs from Europe

Court thee with gorgeous toys;

Crouching each to hold thy Stirrup,

Proud to serve thee like Seapoys.

Par.

Why—faith—She offers-like a Bidder.

Nabob!—Bon ça!—let me—consider: Bengal—a damn'd—long—voyage thither.

(aside) Now un grand Coup—You're warm—and I in Spirits—

(to her) 'Gad, Ma'am, let's use your Husband as he merits.

AIR VI.

Down Derry Derry. (To her with petulant Familiarity.)

Sweet Revenge there is a Clue to,

Wou'd you take a Fool's advice,—

Me voici tout pret—Cornuto

We may dub him in a trice.

Dans le Bon ton—Down derry derry.

Dans le Bon ton,

Sur le Gazon.

(Juno in furious indignation turns fiercely upon him.)

RECITATIVE.

Juno.

Indeed!—'Squire Hotspur!—two words to that Bargain.

Par. (with cutting indifference)

N'importe—There needs no farther arguing.

turns away.

Juno. (apart)

To be sent haggling here with such a Puppy!

Well, Jove, remember this, if I ben't up wi' ye.

AIR VII.

Tender Passion, gentle Love,

Cooing, murmuring like the Dove,

Shall desert my troubled breast

Until the Fairest I'm confest.

I'll shake your curtains every night,

And you shall tremble with affright;

I'll bounce, I'll flounce, I'll rant and rave,

And you shall be a very slave.

Exit in a rage.

RECITATIVE.

(Paris alone.)

Sans ceremonie, I dismiss her.

Hey, Mercury!

(Enter Mercury.)

Fetch in Pallas—

Merc. (bowing)

Yes, Sir—

(Exit. Paris remains, bumming.)

Dans le Bon ton,—hey, derry derry.

Dins le Bon ton,

Sur le Gazon,

(until Mercury re-enters, introducing Pallas. He bows and retires. She stands sullen; Paris hops partly up to kiss her.)

Par.

Servant, my dear,!—

(She repulses him with a violent push.)

Pal.

Since when? Spruce Master Jemmy!

Par. (aside, his hands on his breast as in pain)

That Peg she had from Broughton—demme!

Well, Joan of Arc!—my frumpish Missy

You might, as well ha' let me kiss ye.

Pal.

Paris, no Airs—That Pippin, without musing,

Adjudge to me—

Par. (ironically)

Bon;—for your Skill in bruising.

Pal.

I'll make your Fortune:—Call me else, Canary.

Par.

My Fortune, Miss!—

Pal.

Ay, in the Milita—ry.

AIR VIII.

Bates.

Thy sword, thy cannon's thunder,

Shall gain thee store of plunder!

Great Arthur, conquering Ammon,

Ne'er saw such piles of Mammon!

Raise, young Paris, raise thy name!

Away, away to Wealth and Fame!

RECITATIVE.

Par. (having stared at her with surprize)

Zauns, Miss—What see you in my Figure, As if I lov'd to draw a Trigger?

AIR IX.

Arne.

Let Heroes delight in the toils of the war,

In maims, blood, and bruises and blows;

Not a sword, but a sword-knot rejoices the Fair:

And what art rough Soldiers to Beaux?

Away then with laurels! come Beauty and Love,

And silence the trumpet and drum;

Let me with soft Myrtle my brows bear inwove,

And tenderly combat at home!

RECITATIVE.

Pal.

Dastard!—Be henceforth, (since you're for that duty)

No Officer of mine.

Par. (with indifference)

Ni vous—my Beauty.

Now, Merc'ry!—let the Cyprian Belle come.

Enter Mercury, hands out Pallas, and introduces Venus; then bows, and exit. She advances, smirking Paris, tho' struck with her beauty, trips to salute her with his usual pertness.

Ay this! (to her) Permettez-moi! (kisses her)

Ven. (frankly)

And welcome.

(leering, and chucking him under the chin)

My Paris! can you love?

Par. (aside)

No foolish item.

Yes, Ma'am—kind souls!—I never slight'em.

Ven.

Well, there's a Judge—one Menelaus—in Sparta;

(A Judge's crest is—Horns—by Magna Charta)

That Judge, he hath a wife—that Wife hight Nelly,

But such a Nell!—at ev'ry glance

The cockles of your heart would dance,

Warm'd as if by Vermicelli.

AIR X.

Helen if you can trepan,

Thou of heroes shalt lead the van!

Never dally,

Shilli-shally;

Faint heart ne'er fair lady won.

Be bold, and play the Man!

That's the plan.

That shape, that jim rigging

Was form'd for intriguing;

And in foreign parts

You'll reign King of Hearts.

Oh, such bliss you've no idea;

She's a peerless Dulcinea!

Wit delighting,

Charms inviting,

Youth inciting,

Helen, Helen to trepan.

RECITATIVE.

Par.

Agreed—touchez!—Now for a Barrel Of Golden Pippins—We shall never quarrel.

I'll call the Ladies in that went hence.

(Takes the Apple in his hand, crosses the Stage, and calls aloud)

Mercury!—I'm going to Pass Sentence.

(Enter on one Side Mercury, ushering in Juno and Pallas; on the other, Venus alone.)

AIR XI. Venetian Ballad.

Par. (Bowing to Juno and Pallas.)

Mesdames,—to speech you,

But more might disoblige you;

I therefore beseech you,

Let this Action teach you

My upright Award

By Equity squar'd,

Not Bribe or Pelf;—

the Pippin, on strict scrutiny,

Rests here [*]—tho' Losers mutiny.

Fair ye to the bone are;—

But this Belle debonnaire

Is Fairness 'Self.

(Juno and Pallas walk to and fro, stomachful; Venus and Paris bowing and curtsying. Mercury stands tittering.

RECITATIVE.

Juno. (turning upon Paris enrag'd)

Buzzard!—in real Beauty, Ignoramus!

Pal. (pointing to Venus)

That lewd Trull's Person was his Fee to bam us.

Juno. (menacing)

For this,—an old house o'er! your Sconce I'll tumble.

Pal.

Poltroon!—Since War you dread, its Din shall rumble

In both your Ears—

Merc.

Ladies!—You're not to grumble.—

AIR XII. QUARTETTO. Fye now, prithee, John.

Ven.

Nay, nay, prithee, Dames,

Don't call blackguard names:

You no title bad—no, nor you.

Pal.

You're a jade—a dirty puss!

And he's a rogue—has cheated us!

But Pallas won't be treated thus:

Ven., Par.

This you shall rue!

A Pippin, is not worth this fuss!

And what could he do?

Juno.

Do, you fool? observe my face,

My shape and air, and every grace:

The brightest Queen that e'er was seen!

What eyes had you?

(A furious Symphony; then enter hastily Jupiter, rageously angry, the thunder-bolt in his hand.)

RECITATIVE.

Jup. (to Juno and Pallas)

Ye spiteful Jades!—threat not my Puny Judge, else

For him I will, myself, take up the Cudgels—The proudest She that with him dares to meddle, I'll make dance Barnaby—without a Fiddle!

AIR XIII.

Galluppi.

The Lad has well decided:

He judg'd it just as I did.—

Ye cou'd not all Three have it;

He to the FAIREST gave it.

Wherein to blame is He?

That he had Eyes to see,

And that the Truth he spoke?

If still ye're stiff and sturdy,

Cocksbobs! I'll make ye smoke!—

My Choler don't provoke;

For, Zouns!—I'll have it so:—

Look to't—I'm at a word wi' ye;—

And now my mind ye know.

RECITATIVE.

Ven. (to Jupiter coaxingly)

The Dragon!—Dear Papa! have some regard on him.

Jup. (chucking her under the chin)

Well mov'd! (nodding to Mercury) Go, set the Dragon free—I pardon him.

(Exit Mercury. Enter Dragon; making profound obeisance to all.)

AIR XIV. AND LAST.

SESTETTO. Vivaldi.

JUPITER, JUNO, PALLAS, VENUS, PARIS, DRAGON.

Jup.

This be the period

Of jars—Shake fists and buss;

Juno., Pal.

Yet, Sir, 'tis very odd,

You'll side with her 'gainst us.

Juno., Pal. to each other.

Had you been adjudg'd it,

I ne'er shou'd ha' grudg'd it.

Jup. (to Juno.)

You Puss,

Why grudge Venus?

Ven.

Why to me this mortal hatred?

Par.

Why to me this spleen inveterate?

Jup., Dra.

Why to her this mortal hatred?

Why to her such spleen inveterate?

Ven.

Beauty's my sole Gift of Nature;

Par.

Justice mine.

Juno., Pal., Dra. (to Paris)

Yours? Venal traitor!

Juno., Pal., Dra. (to Venus)

Conceited creature!

Juno., Pal., Dra. (to Paris and Venus)

Thank her, she cou'd give no greater.

Juno. (aside to Pallas)

I have no patience with such flirts.

Pal. (aside to Juno)

Ne'er heed. We'll stick in both their skirts.

Jup., Dra. (to both)

Blood! don't again my passion rouze.

Jup., Dra. (to both)

He's your Papa, Miss, and your Spouse.

Jup. (to ditto)

If you will not be cool,

I have for Scolds a School,

Juno., Pal.

You see Sir, we are cool.

Jup.

That's call'd the Ducking-stool.

Juno., Pal., Dra.

We shall not need that School.

Juno., Pal., Dra.

They will not need that School.

Juno., Pal., Dra.

You see, Sir, they are cool.

Juno., Pal., Ven.

Shake hands—We're Friends—No spite.

Par., Jup., Dra.

Be Friends—That's right.

Jup., Dra.

For this good hap

We'll all get fap,

And drain the tap.

Ven.

In peace let's live,

Par.

Forget, forgive.

Juno., Pal. (aside to each other)

Will make believe

Jup., Juno., Pal., Ven., Par., Dra.

This day shall be High Jubilee

Jup., Juno., Pal., Ven., Par., Dra.

Let this day be High Jubilee

Jup., Juno., Pal., Ven., Par., Dra. (to the Audience—

Applaud, Applaud, Jove's gracious Nod.

Notes

*
Placing it as a Bouquet in Venus's Bosom.
↵

ERRATUM.

P. 8. for "Scene changes to a Wild Heath"—read "Scens changes to a Wood."

Information about this book

Title statement

The golden pippin: an English burletta, in three acts. As it is performed at the Theatre-Royal, Covent-Garden. By the author of Midas.

O'Hara, Kane, 1714?-1782.

Publication

Distributor

University of Oxford Text Archive
Oxford University Computing Services
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OX2 6NN
ota@oucs.ox.ac.uk

ID [ota]

http://ota.ox.ac.uk/id/3983

ID [isbn10]

1106009827

ID [isbn13]

9781106009821

ID [TCP]

K037447.000

ID [BIBNO]

CW3313793137

ID [ECLL]

0670102600

Availability

Distributed by the University of Oxford under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License

Source

— The golden pippin: an English burletta, in three acts. As it is performed at the Theatre-Royal, Covent-Garden. By the author of Midas., O'Hara, Kane, 1714?-1782.. [4],51,[1]p. ; 8⁰. London :: printed for T. Becket,. 1773.. [The author of Midas = Kane O'Hara.] [At foot of titlepage: Price one shilling and sixpence.] [A variant has no price at the foot of the titlepage.] [Reproduction of original from the British Library.] [English Short Title Catalog, ESTCT35678.] [Electronic data. Farmington Hills, Mich. : Thomson Gale, 2003. Page image (PNG). Digitized image of the microfilm version produced in Woodbridge, CT by Research Publications, 1982-2002 (later known as Primary Source Microfilm, an imprint of the Gale Group).]

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