The Irish mimic: or blunders at Brighton: a musical entertainment in two acts. As performed at the Theatre-Royal, Covent-Garden. With universal applause. Written by John O'Keeffe.

Table of contents

- [titlepage]

- DRAMATIS PERSONAE.

- ACT I.

- SCENE I.—A Street.

- SCENE II.—The Steine, before Gregory's library —A view of the sea—Company walking, convers ing, &c— JULIA, and others reading,

- SCENE III. —Moon light. Cliff before CYPRESS'S house—Enter CAPTAIN CLIFFORD, Celevated with Wine, singing.

- ACT II.

- SCENE I.—Tilt's coffee-room.

- SCENE II.—CYPRESS'S lodgings.

- SCENE III.—Pavilion, Parade.

- SCENE IV.— The street before Miss MELCOMBS' bouses.

- SCENE V. MISS MELCOMB'S dressing room.

A LOUNGE AT BRIGHTON.

THE END.

THE IRISH MIMIC; OR BLUNDERS AT BRIGHTON: A MUSICAL ENTERTAINMENT IN TWO ACTS.

AS PERFORMED AT THE THEATRE-ROYAL, COVENT-GARDEN.

WITH UNIVERSAL APPLAUSE.

WRITTEN BY JOHN O'KEEFFE.

LONDON: PRINTED FOR T. N. LONGMAN, PATER-NOSTER ROW.

1795.

[PRICE ONE SHILLING.]

DRAMATIS PERSONAE.

- CYPRESS, MR. MUNDIN.

- CAPT. CLIFFORD, MR. M'READY.

- PARROTS, MR. JOHNSTONE.

- COLIN, MR. FAWCETT.

- HARRY, MR. FARLEY.

- PORTER, MR. THOMPSON.

- MISS MELCOMBE, MRS. DAVENPORT.

- JULIA MELCOMBE, MRS. LEE.

- LANDLADY, MISS PLAT.

Company, Band, Soldiers, &c.

SCENE—At Brighton.

TIME—An evening, night, and morning.

ACT I.

SCENE I.—A Street.

Enter COLIN with a Basket.

COLIN

YES, it bes, Harry. Enter Harry in morning dress, Trowsers, &c. and bathing man.]

Harry.

No, I shan't bathe to-morrow. [Exit man.] Every morning relaxes, and we come down here to brace ourselves up like drums, for the rattle of a London winter campaign;

Colin.

My brother Harry!

Harry.

Colin! what brought you here?

Colin.

An if you go to that, what has brought you here?

Harry.

I came here but yesterday with my lady.

Colin.

Oh, then you got a pleace? So did I the very day after we parted in London.

Harry.

Why, that's lucky, the first week you set foot in town.

Colin.

No, t'was quite misfortunate. My place was so badish, Measter was one of the shew.

Harry.

What, an actor.

Colin.

Yes, he acted your foreign Opera Plays, in Haymarket.

Harry.

What! oh, zounds, ha, ha, ha, then, Colin, you was servant to an Opera finger?

Colin.

Yes, that was it; he got a huge deal of money from our high gentry here in England; but to save it all, and bring it away with him, he starved himself, and gave me nothing to eat: I'll be dom'd but he did, for his sallads made me pick dandelion, and water cresses out of the ditches; then he made maccoroni which be's just like our hard dumplings cut into long tobacco stoppers; then he made omlets, and when he used to boil eggs wanted me to sup the broth, a dom'd Italian son of a sausage, wanted to fatten me with egg broth, so I left him— oh, I left him.

Harry.

Well, who do you live with? Some Sussex Squire, Eh?

Colin.

No, I bes servant to a desperate voine lady! Miss Melcomb, from Lancashire.

Harry.

What! (surprised) ha! ha! ha! by heavens exceeding good!

Colin.

Now your Mistress's name, Harry?

Harry.

Miss Melcomb from Lancashire.—You impudent puppy, how dare you tell me you live with Miss Melcomb, when I am certain, I'm the only man servant she has at Brighton.

Colin.

I say I'm her only man servant; and dom your impudence, brother Harry! a conceited fool! In his trowsers, strutting about like a pair of compasses.

Enter CYPRESS.

Cypress.

Oh, sure I've seen you before.

Colin.

Yez, sir, afore the chair, and behind the coach.

Cypress.

You live with Miss Melcomb?

Colin.

Now mind that Harry, —I do, sir.

Cypress.

My belov'd here? oh, let me fly!—no, she likes ceremony, my name first— (takes out card and writes.)

Colin.

But I must go give our cook the Arundel mullets, (goes in house.)

Cypress.

(turns) Eh, where's Miss Melcomb's servant?

Harry.

(advancing) I'm here, sir.

Cypress.

Then you too belong?—step in with this card to your mistress, and bring me back an answer; tell her you saw her dear Cypress, and that I look charming. (Harry goes into distinct house from Colin, Cypress seeing him.) Never man had such disappointments! it's the business of my life to be kind to my old friends; to be sure I hope they will leave me something when they die, but no chance of that; here I suppose they fancy a puff of sea air can restore their breath, and a mouthful of salt water pickle and preserve them, and ecod its no fancy, Tom Nibble that I left in town with one foot in the grave, I met just now with two in a pair of boots. Dick Toothless that I left steep'd in barley broth, I find at Hick's Tavern, peeping at me over a round of beef.—Lady Squab I parted, hid in a stuffed elbow chair, I met this morning gallopping over the downs, running a race with a staff officer.

Enter CAPTAIN CLIFFORD.

Capt. C.

What, Mr. Cypress!

Cypress.

Mad Captain Clifford here!—eh he don't look well, I'll be civil, (aside.) how d'ye do a thousand times, my dear, dear, sir?

Capt. C.

Never better, thank heaven! just got from our mess; dem it, they drink so hard.

Cypress.

I see now he's fresh and florid, find every body I meet in barbarous health, (going.) Oh, but true, I must wait for an answer from the mistress of my heart.

Capt. C.

Ha! ha! ha! who is your goddess? Come, don't be asham'd to tell! ha! ha! ha!

Cypress.

Sir, I boast of my love for Miss Melcomb, as her love to me is her greatest glory!

Capt. C.

Miss Melcomb!—Can it be my Julia? (aside.)

Cypress.

Yes; I'm the lad of her soul, I've sent in my name; now you'll see her ardent desire for me to send in myself.

Capt. C.

Miss Melcomb's not at Brighton?

Cypress.

Then that house is not in Brighton. (pointing to that where Harry went off.)

Capt. C.

My love next door to me, and I not know it!

Re-enter Harry, both seeing of him.

Cypress.

Well, you deliver'd my card to your mistress?

Harry.

Yes, sir, but the says the knows no such person. (Exit.)

Cypress.

What!

Capt. C.

Not know the glorious lad of her soul, (Claps Cypress on the back.) ha! ha! ha!

Cypress.

I desire, sir, you'll—by my honor she's the most—

Capt. C.

Hold, sir! Miss Melcomb is a lady for whom I have the utmost veneration—

Cypress.

You!

Capt. C.

Yes, I, and for proof I'll indulge you, and in your own way too, I'll send in my name. (writes.)

Cypress.

Not know any such gentleman. (walks about.)

Capt. C.

Eh! but where's Miss Melcomb's man?

Enter COLIN from where he went off, unperceiv'd.

Colin.

Here I be, sir.

Capt. C.

Are you her servant?

Colin.

Oh, yez, sir, I bes her livery man.

Capt.

And perhaps her common councilman.

Colin.

Noa, sir, I never durst give her council, tho' I advis'd her sometimes.—Will you walk in, old gentleman?

Cypress.

Old! rascal!

Capt. C.

Come, sir, I won't hear even Miss Melcomb's servant abus'd.

Colin.

That's right, sir, love me, love my dog.

Capt. C.

Then carry that in your paw to your mistress. (Exit Colin in the house from whence he came out unperceiv'd.) Now Mr. Cypress, I don't absolutely boast I'm quite her glory! but perhaps she won't desire me to send in myself. Ironical

Re-enter COLIN.

Colin.

Sir, my lady says, she doesn't know any thing about the person that wrote upon this.

Cypress.

Ha! ha! ha!

Capt. C.

Impossible! by heavens she is the most capricious!—I see her duplicity in this seeming denial to Cypress, Julia prefer a sordid rascal to me! hark'ye, you old raven! your hovering about for legacies is notorious, thro' almost every public place in England; you have been hooted out of the rooms at Bath, drove from the pantiles at Tunbridge, and by heaven, I'll have you beat off the Steine at Brighton.

Cypress.

I beat! ha! ha! ha! well, I should like to see that.

Colin.

So should I, sir he! he! he!

Cypress.

Rascal!

Colin.

He! he! he! Runs off.

Capt. C.

I'll have this refusal from Miss Melcomb's own lips.—No, I'll see her no more; but, dem me, I'll match you Mr. Cypress. Exit.

Enter Miss MELCOMB, in full dress, from the house where Colin went in and out of unperceived.

Miss M.

Colin! fetch my parasol.

Cypress.

[turns] Oh! here is my persidious Peggy.

Miss M.

Those young gentlemen will keep flying after one so, I'm glad I didn't bring my niece Julia here; no chance of admirers her flimsy beauty in the way.—What Mr. Cypress! I protest I'm glad to see, you!

Cypress.

Yes, ma'am; you'd be glad to see me at Pondicherry, so you were at the same time upon a Sussex cliff, even from thence, madam, I should behold you. Love is a monstrous telegraphe: if you had any pity, you cou'd read without spectacles, that slighted passion is a piteous case.

Miss M.

What do you talk to me, sir, of spectacle cases?

Cypress.

Then, madam, I'll be round with you: you might have put on your barnacles, and answered my card.

Miss M.

Yours! my servant did bring me a card just now, but not from you.

Cypress.

Forgets even my name!

Enter HARRY dress;ed.

Miss M.

How provoking! here's some gentleman has sent his servant to watch me about. Aside.

Harry.

Now for the library.—My mistress shou'd have set down more than one number. Going.

Cypress.

Didn't I give you a card for your lady?

Harry.

Certainly, sir.

Cypress.

And wasn't her answer that she didn't know the writer?

Harry.

Knew nothing at all about him, sir. Exit.

Cylpress.

There madam! Oh shame! that a lady can rend a man's honest heart, and then deny it to his miserable face!

Miss M.

What, sir, do you talk to me of cards to ladies; and, sir, I can't help your miserable face.

Cypress.

You can help, madam, my bleeding heart, that you yourself have given the fatal stab to!—But—I don't care twopence about her: I'll now scorn in my turn.

Miss. M.

Sir, if I have attractions, am I to blame? I didn't make them.

Cypress.

Make! no, Miss, you bought your lilies and roses ready made; the master of the ceremonies at your toilet places them well enough Miss, but if one was to see them in a morning, there's a cast off, and change sides, Miss: ‘Where are the lilies? on the cheeks of my Phillis! where is the rose? on her pretty little nose!’ Sings.

Miss M.

Barbarous, cruel man!

Cypress.

Nay now, Miss Melcomb, my dear Peggy!

Miss M.

Sir, though I was christened Margaret, I told you I was since confirmed Seraphina.—Seraphina is my name!

Cypress.

Will you be Seraphina Cypress? taking her hand.

Enter Colin, with parasol.

Miss M.

Colin, go to the library and ask for the telescope I chose on my fortunate raffle yesterday. Any messages, you'll find me on the Steine.

Cypress.

My dear Peggy—

Miss. M.

Sir, be assured Miss Melcomb will never be Mrs. Cypress, Exit with COLIN,

Cypress.

There's a coquet! All art, her denial to Captain Clifford. Gone to first with him on the Steine. How have I lost her? Some disgust! Was it when she pop'd in upon me t'other day whilst I was shaving? She desired me not to mind her, and like an ass, on I went, up to the eyes in fuds, twissting my features into fifty ugly shapes before, her. When she asked me for her favourite air, like a fool I must play it on the german flute, and put my mouth into such an uncomely shape: my attitudes were graceful tho'! [Imitates.] Love is gone! Come revenge! But how?

Enter Boy, puts hand-bills under knockers, gives one to Cypress, and exit.

Pshaw! pester me with auction bills! and— Eh, [Reads.] "Great rooms—Mr. Parrots—Give imitations—principal performers—sawing a deal board—celebrated orator—two cats in a gutter— drawing a cork"—Oh, here's an occasion for ample revenge on my perfidious Peggy! She has killed me, and I'll make her ridiculous! Oh, I'll have her among the cats and gutters! Exit

SCENE II.—The Steine, before Gregory's library —A view of the sea—Company walking, conversing, &c— JULIA, and others reading,

Julia.

[To Shopman]. I desired my servant to call for the book. No matter: I'll take it myself.

Man.

[Writing] Miss Melcombe.

Julia.

Eh, what Captain Clifford is this? [Looking at book.] My dear Charles at Brighton! most certain!

Enter Capt. CLIFFORD.

Capt. C.

Oh, here is Julia! Most obedient ma'am.

Julia.

Ma'am—so cool! well then, your most obedient, sir. Ah, I was once the loveliest creature in the world: wasn't I, Charles? Look in my face wretch: Is not there now somebody else more lovely?

AIR.

I.

I'D fain ask you a this, but in steps a that,

Ah! why did you, truant, away from me go?

Yet, not that I'm curious, but merely for chat,

'Tis only no harm to know it, you know.

II.

What lady detain'd you? I'm sure she was fair,

Much taller than I am, perhaps full as low;

No business of mine 'tis—what colour her hair?

'Tis only no harm to know it, you know.

III.

Pray, was she demure? or coquetishly gay?

The voice of a cherub, or may be so, so?

Her eyes—I don't ask whether hazle or grey,

'Tis only no harm to know it, you know.

IV.

But one thing, O, tell me! No more then impart,

Did'st give her what was not your own to bestow?

Tho' sure you'd not venture to give her your heart,

'Tis only no harm to know it, you know.

Capt. C.

Why, ma'am, you're very pleasant.

Julia.

Certainly; this is the place for pleasure. But how long have you been at Brighton?

Capt. C.

Long enough, madam, to receive proofs of what I never even suspected.

Julia.

Don't talk so loud; the people are all staring at us.

Capt. C.

Oh, madam, it's your ambition to be stared at, by young and old!

Julia.

I was going to take a turn on the Cliff; come, give me your arm, and let's know what is this mighty business.

Capt. C.

'Pon my honor, ma'am, this is exceeding well—my arm! then you are not afraid of meeting old Cypress?

Julia.

Now bless your pretty little soul, Charles, who is old Cypress.

Capt. C.

Oh, ma'am, that incomprehensibility of surprise is absurd: you first refused to admit Cyprese, because I was in the way; then, to soften him by a compleat triumph over me, you send me out word—

Julia.

I send you out word; of what pray?

Enter COLIN —Speaks in at shop.

Colin.

I want the telepope, that mistress won with the dice-box.

Capt. C.

[Stops him.] Oh! I gave you a card for your lady: you brought out for answer that she did'nt know me?

Colin.

Yez sir. [Exit into shop.]

Julia.

But what's all this to me?

Capt. C.

Ma'am, you seem very careless about it; but I think it's very much to you; and Julia, all in all to me: [Tenderly.] therefore, madam, I insist—

Julia.

Hold, sir! you forget yourself: Such behaviour in a public place?

Capt. C.

But, Julia, sure I have a right to demand an explanation.

Julia.

Oh, my valiant Captain! To proceed in form: hadn't you best send me a challenge?—but you may take it for granted, sir, whether in resentment or affection, this is the last time I shall ever give you the meeting. Exit.

Capt. C.

I'll flog Grogan! no, the good-natured people round have witness'd my insulting a woman; they sha'n't add to my disgrace by seeing me beat an old man! Oh, Julia! at our tender parting did I think to meet you thus?

AIR.—CAPT. CLIFFORD.

I.

How bitter the moment, with those we hold dear,

When exchanging the tender adien;

I follow'd you far with my eyes, when a tear

Hid the object I lov'd from my view.

I pensive retir'd to forget you; ah, vain!

I found solitude cherish'd despair;

In company sought a relief from my pain:

Your dear image still follow'd me there.

II.

Thro'grove, mead, and garden I varied the scene,

With fond hope some repose I might find;

But still a lov'd spot, where together we've been,

Some lov'd incident brought to my mind.

When I muse in the grove, there I see your dear name,

That I carv'd on the rind of a tree,

In a garden I'm charm'd with a rosebud, the same,

Whence a flower you presented to me.

III.

I range thro' the me down attended by Tray,

Once yours:—his affection is prov'd

And the linnet's sweet pipe can blest raptures convey,

When he carrols the tune that you lov'd.

By moonlight I walk, I enjoy her mild rays,

And this heart soothing fancy pursue:

I think at the instant whilst on her I gaze,

She then may be look'd on by you.

Eh! isn't this Mr.Parrots, the celebrated Irish mimick? Ha! ha! ha! A capital mistake in talent his, attempts to imitate every character and dialect the most opposite; yet, with such an invincible brogue, that when he fancies he speaks or sings a variety of voices, you can only think yourself in a debating society at Tipperary,

Enter Parrots and Servant,

Parrots.

Waiter, prepare me a good breakfast of some tea and cakes; but if you can't get three new laid eggs, you may eat them all yourself.—Captain Clifford, how do you do, sir?

Capt. C.

Ha! Mr. Parrots, true I saw your bills for performance.

Parrots.

Yes, sir, I'm come to give my imitations, and have hir'd a fine big room; but such a bushel of troubles—

Capt. C.

I'm glad you're come Parrots, I wanted something to laugh at, this place is very pleasant, eh? the Steine, —and Downs, —and bathing, —

Parrots.

Bathing! oh a blessed affair happen'd to me, the very day I arriv'd, I was so afraid of nobody coming to hear me, that I was about to go back to London; so I took my place in the machine, but instead of a stage coach, they put me into a wooden closet, and dragg'd me into the sea: Hallo! says I, let me out! Off with your cloaths, says the fellow, and tumble out here headlong.

Capt. C.

Ha! ha! ha!

Parrots.

Well, I thought I'd stay here a few days longer, if only to pick up, among their bathing shops, and raffling Machines, a new stock of originals; and faith. I've been at them eves dropping about every where, why t'other night in the playhouse, I had a Scotch presbyterian calling to the music for God save the King! A French marquis bawling for Roast Beef! and an Irishman roaring for Rule Britannia!

Capt. C.

Oh, you've him at your tongue's end.

Parrots.

Who, the Irishman? now there you're out: he has such a devil of a brogue, that he's the only person there I cannot mimick neatly.

AIR—PARROTS.

I'M the man that can take off every fowl,

From the singing Lark, to the barking Dog.

[Hark! the Lark (mimicks) now the Dog.]

All beasts I can mimick upon my foul,

From the cackling Hen, to the grunting Hog.

[Tie Hen, (mimicks) the Hog, (mimicks)

All's food for wit, that falls into my dish,

Like crowing Cock, I'm a fine bird-call,

And yet I cannot well mimick a fish,

Because that a fish says nothing at all.

Burden

At all jolly parties I make a rout,

I'm call'd for my song; for a joaker I pass;

But some how or other—I bring it about,

That the people all think me a fine jack-Ass,

II.

At Hanover Square when your Concert plays,

Like them I can Presto, Piano too,

[presto! piano.]

I sing and I whistle with so much ease,

The black Crow's neat song, and the tight Cuckow,

[Lo! the Crow the Cuckow.]

The sawing Boards, and the drawing of Cork,

And water as dropping, drop, drop, drop,

I tune up my pipe, with my great pitch-fork,

At the bottom now, and now at the top.

BURDEN.

At all jolly parties I make a rout,

I'm call'd for my song; for a joaker I pass;

But some how or other I bring it about,

That the people all think me a fine Jack-Ass.

Capt. C.

Ha! ha! ha! this offers something for old Cypress. [Aside.] Mr. Parrots, if you shou'dn't be encouraged here, equal to your merits, you may easily get money for your travelling expences however.

Parrots.

Then how? my dear sir!

Capt. C.

Listen.—A gentleman here had an old friend, whom he once insulted grossly: this friend hadn't spirit to resent it himseif, yet dying lately, carried his resentment to his last breath, absolutely in his will left a legacy of a hundred pounds, to any one that wou'd cane him on the open Steine. Now suppose you were to—

Parrots.

Beat a gentleman! you don't catch me at that Captain.

Capt. C.

Why besides touching the Cash, you chastise an impudent little rascal.

Parrots.

If I was to chastise all the impudent rascals, I shou'd have five firsts for everyone of my ten fingers, thumbs and all.

Cap. C.

Interest is not the string, I must touch, the Hibernian's courage, (aside.) I don't think the legacy will ever be claim'd, tho' the money is a temptation, yet nobody hitherto has ventured to win it by striking him, he's a remarkably strong little fellow indeed, full of tricks with his strength when he gets a bottle; twisting pokers round his neck, battering pewter pots with his forehead, they talk here, (but I never believ'd it) that the cause of the east cliffs falling, was his shoving in a drunken sit one of the great guns off the battery: yes, yes it requires a deal of resolution to—

Parrots.

Why, sir, d'ye think I'm afraid? upon the Steine you say? any particular time mention'd in the will?

Cap. C.

Eh, yonder is old Cypress, (aside.) when there's a good deal of company about; now, a propos, look, that's your man.

Parrots.

What that clergyman bowing to the ladies? or the man in deep mourning laughing so hearty? (looking out.)

Cap. C.

Pho, dem it, look there.

Parrots.

Oh the little squab lad in the bob wig and blue and silver coat. But, Captain, if I do win this legacy, who's to pay it me?

Cap. C.

Zounds! what name! oh, —any, (aside.) eh, —one—one Captain Tomkins is the executor.

Parrots.

But where does he live?

Cap. C.

Any body will tell you, look that's his house. (points.)

Parrots.

Very well.

Cap. C.

Here's jack Daily, he'll be dragging me to the bottle, (going.)

(Enter an Officer tipsey.)

Officer.

Ha! ha! ha! hollo Clifford! by heavens you're a fine fellow to slip off so!

Capt. C.

Pho, never mind me, there's a lady that I—

Officer.

Zounds! meet a lady with such a sober stupid face, Dem it come along my boy! (sings) "for Venus ne'er looks with a smile so divine!" (drags him off.)

Parrots.

To get my bottle I must first touch the corks; he's here, a hundred pounds is a good thing; but beating him in cold blood—by my foul I'd rather get a threshing myself (so that nobddy might know it) than strike a man that has never done me any harm.—But a stick is necessary. (Exit into shop)

(Enter CYPRESS with newspaper.)

Cypress.

I'm burning for revenge on my cruel Peg, but no finding this Mr. Parrots the mimick— a deal of fashion here this evening. (Enter COLIN from shop with telescspe.) Oh is your lady on the Steine.

Celin.

Walking in yon voine company.

Cypress.

She shall see what terms I'm on with people of condition (puts up glass.) Sir Luke! we'll settle our bet at the rooms. (Calling off.) Lady Dimple I do you ride to Rottingdeane to-morrow? Our friend the Colonel promises a charming treat from the Dorset band, on the level. (Calling off.)

Colin.

Yes, sir, mistress and I will be on the level. (puts up the Telescope) Dick Coachman! Shall us tig a mug of Newhaven beer a: the white horse?

(Calling off.)

Cypress.

Colin! Cou'dn't you draw your lady this way I tell her sha'll see something very pleasant.

Colin.

What, sir, you wi child and tumbling blackamoor?

Cypress.

No make her look towards me.

Colin.

I wull. (Exit.)

Cypress.

Then she'll learn that I'm somebody for all her scorn.

Re-enter Parrots from shop (with stick.)

Parrots.

I'll pay you for this little hag, but now take it out an airing upon trial, (speaking off.)

Cypress.

Let's see what valetudinarian friends at Buxton. (sits and reads, PARROTS walks round, then sits by him.)

Parrots.

I must get him more amongst the company, (aside.) sir, hadn't you best take a walk?

Cypress.

Take a walk!

Parrots.

Yes, sir, and I'll take another, and yet we'll both take the same walk.

Cypress.

Who is this man? (aside.)

Parrots.

I'll make him affront me, and then it will be all his own doing. (Drops the cane on CyPRESS'S, foot.) Sir you needn't kick shelalah about, you and he will be better acquainted bye and bye.

Cypress.

I protest this is an odd person. (aside.)

Parrots.

I don't like striking a naked man; I wish he had some weapon, (aside.) Sir, how d'ye like this colt? because, sir, if you'd step and take a silly out of the same paddock yonder, they'd breed charming.

Cypress.

Breed what?

Parrots.

They'd breed a quarrel!

Cypress.

I do not like this man. (aside.)

Parrots.

How shall I rouze him! (aside.) When that paper's out of hand, sir, I'll thank you for it; (takes it.) I'm obliged to you, sir.

Cypress.

It's now out of hand indeed.

Parrots.

Sir I say that's false, for now it's in hand, and yet I'll read it out of hand— (reads) On Saturday died."—

Cypress.

Lord, sir, just let me look at the deaths!

Parrots.

Takes an affront like mull'd claret, then I'll beat him without any ceremony for the meanness of his spirit! (aside.) Look ye, sir? as to battering pewter pots against men's foreheads, and making cravats of their kitchen pokers, that's all to me a meer dog's whistle!

Cypress.

Sir!

Parrots.

I never attempted to throw a cannon over a cliff like others!

Cypress.

Didn't you, Sir? I beg pardon, I thought you did, —Gad this is an odd fellow! ha! ha! ha! (aside.)

Parrots.

Harkye, sir, I wish to avoid strife, and so—if you'll only tell the executor I did it, I'll not do it at all.

Cypress.

Then, sir, you, may let it alone, what the devil's all this he's talking about, I'll do, and you'll not do.

Parrots.

Oh but I will if you go to that, sblood! and thunder sir! why don't you put me into a fury as you did the dead man? but what did you do to make the dying soul leave you such a token of affection?

Cypriss.

Who! what! has any deceased friend?—

Parrots.

Ay you're left the truth of a thumping legacy!

Cypress.

Indeed! where am I to receive it, my dear sir!

Parrots.

Why here.

Cypress.

Here! when?

Parrots.

Now.

Cypress.

Who's to pay me it?

Parrots.

I.

Enter Colin.

Colin.

I told my lady sir, and she and company are all looking.

Parrots.

The executor may want a witness—

Cypress.

Witness! why, my dear sir, won't my receipt do? Come we'll get pens, ink, and stamp in the shop.

Parrots.

No, leaving a mark will do for this,— you stand there, and observe what passes. (to Colin.)

Cypress.

Tell your lady what marks of affection I receive from others. Now I'm ready to take it.

Parrots.

And I to give it.— (Strikes him.)

Cypress.

Murder! help!

Parrots.

There I've tried the poney— (throws it down.) Now to tell the Captain, and then for a touch at the executor! Exit,

Cypress.

Oh heavens! oh my back!

Collin.

Then this is the joke they're to see, —he! he! he! how my lady laughs, all the gentlefolks be's laughing at you! he! he! he! he! what a happy man you be, to make people so merry! he! he! he!

Cypress.

Merry, you dem'd Villain, yes I'm very happy, publickly disgrac'd! Miss Melcomb may indeed now despise me, I myself to draw her attention and be curst to me, I'll write to her,— Explain what I don't understand, I'll go—oh isn't this my old landlady! [enter Landlady,] Eh, now, good dame, where are you gadding, and nobody at home to light me a candle?

Landlady.

Ah, Mr, Cypress, I wish I could afford to keep a maid, but lawk one must call in upon one's neighbours to see whether they're dead or alive.

Cypress.

What then you're a legacy hunter? you selfish creature! I say return home and light my candles!

Landlady.

Ah, sir, take a couple of turns more on the Steine, for the sea air is so wholesome for you phthysicy old gentlemen. Exit.

Cypress.

There's a scandalous gossip! eh, she's gone into the apothecary's shop, some hope of an old woman that goes into an apothecary's shop, I'll make her a present of a pair of fleecy hosiery gambadoes.

Colin.

Oh here's the poney. (takes up stick.)

Cypress.

Boy, you step home with me to strike a light, and carry a letter to your lady.

Colin.

Yes, sir, he! he! he! you be more comical than tumbling blackamoor.—How cleverly he managed the poney, here he went so! and then he went so! (flourishing it over Cypress's head.)

Cypress.

Why you dam'd rascal! (snatches it, Colin run off.) What will Peggy think of me, sure she won't have me after this public disgrace, well if not, I'll still pursue her; perhaps when she dies she may leave me something in token of former friendship.

AIR.—Cypress.

OUR joys are all fled,

Oh! alas, and alack!

My friend now lies dead,

And the house hung with black.

How can his lov'd wife

Her yast sorrows endure?

She's lost to all life,

As the Mutes at the door.

Our handkerchiefs wave,

And our hearts are in dole;

He's laid in the grave,

And we think on the—cole.

With glass of wine we'll cheer our woe,

And wipe our muzzy faces,

Then hey! for Doctor's Commons go,

To see how there the case is.

"I have the fortune," cries one son,

"And t'other not a souski,"

The wife sings, "My kind husband's gone,

"He was a rousi-ouski."

Executors grand!

Now think how they can crib,

Left plate, house and land,

To his dear loving rib.

With widow we dine,

All bachelors met,

The hatchment's the sign,

There's a wife to be let.

So lonely her-bed!

Her sad heart sure will break;

She swears she can't wed

In less than a—week.

With glass of wine, &c.

[Exit].

Enter JULIA agitated, and HARRY.

Julia.

And Clifford lives next door to me?—I will not live next door to him—Harry—You must look out other lodgings, —Then this was the cause of his behaviour to me!—ah! fye! fye! men are all base, and venal. (aside.) How long has your brother and his mistress been here?

Harry.

But a few days, ma'am.

Julia.

And Captain Clifford you say sent in a tender message to my aunt?—that is your brother Colin's Lady—the other Miss Melcomb?

Harry.

Most certainly, ma'am —I didn't know your ladyship had an aunt; they say she's very rich? but that to he sure you know.

Julia.

And that she is very rich my false Clifford to be sure knows, —But dear he need not be vain of his conquest, for my venerable aunt throws out her lure for every bird that flies! he fancies it is his fine person that has caught her, but I'll convince him, that with all his grace, and accomplishments and sweet voice, he may be supplanted by the first insignificant, dangling coxcomb, that chuses to pay her any attention, (aside.) Harry you're acquainted with some of the officers' servants?

Harry.

Oh yes, madam—very genteel valets.

Julia.

Then if you know any very genteel valet—that has a very smart little master—whose regimentals would fit me—

Harry.

Madam!— (surprised.)

Julia.

Borrow them—ha, ha, ha!—I think I shall make a smart Brighton Officer! I can dance—sport my uniform on the Steine—chatter at the libraries—shew the ladies my neat marquee— then at our camp and review,

I'll make a rout,

The cows and sheep my only foes,

On prancing steed curvet about!

With pops of powder, fright the crows!

Exeunt.

SCENE III. —Moon light. Cliff before CYPRESS'S house—Enter CAPTAIN CLIFFORD, Celevated with Wine, singing.

Capt. C,

What's company, wine, mirth, without love! women should be indulged in their little caprices and pets, since man cannot exist without their charming smiles. I'll call on my divine Julia, throw myself at her feet, and ask her pardon.

(A light appears at the upper window; CYPRESS seated in cap and gown writing.)

Enter Colin from House.

Colin.

Ecod I'll wait on him no longer, my lady will want me, and this old rogue will give me nothing.

Capt. C.

Julia's servant! where have?—who lives here?

Colin.

Mr. Cypress, sir.

Capt C.

Zounds! totally forgot—I wonder if Parrots performed the exploit! Dem that 'tother bottle! lost all the fun by it, —what you're come with a letter?

Colin.

No, sir, I stay to take one, his old landlady be's not yet com'd home, so stingy won't keep a maid—so Mr. Cypress bid me watch door.

Capt. C.

Well, I want to ask him a question.

Colin.

Noa, sir, he bid me not let any one disturb him whilst he's writing love—

Capt. C.

Is that he up there?

Colin.

Yes; Sir, he sleep's in a Garret for the good air over the hills.

Capt. C.

Go home, your lady wants you.

Colin.

Does she? good bye, sir. (shuts door.)

Capt. C.

Why the devil did you shut the door?

Colin,

That nobody might go in, till old woman comes back.

Capt. C.

Dem the old woman!

Colin.

How fine these officers talk, dem the old woman! Exit.

Capt. C.

Julia's dissimulation, carrying on a correspondence—Cypress has the name of money, can she be so base! you're composing your loveletter? then I'll discompose.— (looking up, knocks at the door.)—I don't think he can know me. [Deranging his dress.]

Cypress.

(within) Colin! why don't you go to the door?

Capt. C.

I'll teaze, but dem it what shall I say! (Cypress opens door with candle.)

Cypress.

Where is this clown run to?

Capt. C.

Pray, sir, does Captain Tomkins liye here?

Cypress.

No, Sir.

Capt. C.

Ask pardon, sir, any where in this neighbourhood, sir?

Cypress.

'Pon my word, sir, I'm but a stranger myself.

Capt. C.

Good night; sir, —sorry—give you— much trouble.

Cypress.

Oh, sir, no trouble, good night, sir. (shuts door.)

Capt. C.

Ay, trot up, (listens) seated? (looks up) yes— (Cypress appears at window, takes up pen, Captain Clifford knocks; Cypress starts, takes candle and retires.)—ay, now trot down again. I hope he won't let his candle fall, for I like to contemplate his delectable phiz— (list'ning, Cypress opens door.)—Pray, sir, does Captain Tomkins live here?

Cypress.

No, sir, Captain Tomkins does not live here, eh! why, sir, you are the gentleman asked this instant!

Capt. C.

Bless my soul! the same door indeed! sir, I ask pardon.

Cypress.

Oh, sir, no offence, —plague what keeps the old woman!

Capt. C.

Sir I wish you good night.

Cypress.

Oh, sir, good night to you. Exit.

Capt. C.

(list'ning.) Up we trot again, —set to our love-letter? Eh, I believe he has taken his pen and ink-horn into some other room, —oh no! there sits old amorous Ovid, — (Knocks, Cypress starts, appears vext, tries to open window but can't, Captain knocks.)—Oh we trot down a little faster. (list'ning) demme I believe he's tumbled down— (Cypress opens the door.)—Pray, sir, does Captain Tomkins live here?

Cypress.

Why what the devil, sir, I told you twice no Captain Tomkins lived here.

Capt. C.

I beg pardon, sir, sorry to give so much trouble.

Cypress.

Sir, really I don't understand what you mean—

Capt. C.

Sir your most obedient, I wish you good night.

Cypress.

Well, sir, good night.— (as he's shutting the door, Captain Clifford pushes it.)

Capt. C.

Oh, sir, you seem to have lost one of your slippers.

Cypress.

Curse it all!

Capt. C.

Pray, sir, don't stay out in the cold,— you'll have a sore throat.— (Cypress sutting the door, Captain Clifford pushes it.)—Oh but, sir, can you tell me where Captain Tomkins lives?

Cypress.

Damn it! Inquire at the publick houses.

shutting the door Capt. Clifford pushes it open.

Capt. C.

Pray, sir, which is the publick house?

Cypress.

Hell and sury, I don't know!

Capt. C

Sir, I ask pardan,— most obedient, good night, sir.

Exit bowing.

Cypress.

This old devil to take the key of my parlour, but I'll quit her lodgings to morrow! damn me! I'll come down no more if the house is on fire!

shuts the door, Enter a Porter.

Porter.

Letter says number twelve.— (holds it to the lamp. Cypress appears at the window writing; Porter knocks, Cypress after many attempts, bursts open windows and looks cut.)

Cypress.

I'll come down no more! Get away you rascal!

Porter.

I've a letter for Mr. Cypress.

Cypress.

A letter, oh.

(shuts the window.)

Porter.

Get away you rascal!—don't care, the lady shall pay me for bringing it.

Exit.

Enter PARROTS.

Parrots.

Unlucky, Captain Clifford and his jolly party broke up, but where does the executor live? the captain pointed this way, so since I'm on the spot, I may as well try to find it out to night, that I may be sure of knowing it in the morning, oh this is it.— (going to knock, Cypress opens the doer.) Pray, sir, does Captain Tomkins live here?

Enter Landlady with a lanthorn going towards door Cypress claps it violently, she fails, Parrots, runs off.—Curtain drops hastily.

END OF ACT I.

ACT II.

SCENE I.—Tilt's coffee-room.

(Captain CLIFFORD discovered at breakfast.)

Capt. C.

I'll got leave of absence, quit Brighton, and see Julia no more.

Enter Parrots.

Parrots.

Ah, sir, what did you run such a hum upon me? first make me beat a man, then ask himself for the reward?

Capt. C.

What do you mean?

Parrots.

Mean! why Captain Tomkins is the gentleman I thres'd, and not the executor! laft night I knock'd at the house, and I thought he'a have knock'd the door and myself into the window the other side the way.

Capt. C.

Why zounds Parrots did you inquire? ha! ha! ha!

Parrots.

Pho, none of your laughing, sir, tell me where the executor lives that I may get in the money, and out of the town, as he may be for bringing me before a justice.

Capt. C.

Ha! ha! ha! and he opened the door in a red night-cap? ha! ha! ha!

Parrots.

Yes he did, but never mind his red night-cap now.

Capt. C.

With a candle in his hand? ha! ha! ha!

Parrots.

Oh the devil burn your candle, sir, what a laughing you keep!

Capt. C.

And you asked, "pray, sir, does Captain Tomkins live here?" ha! ha! ha!

Parrots.

Yes, I did.

Cap. C.

Ha! ha! ha! let's see, the captain is one executor, but you certainly went to the wrong house.

Parrots.

Well right or wrong, I'll go no more to Captain Tomkins, if there are two executors who is the other?

Cap. C.

It's Mr—Come with me, and I'll shew you, ha! ha! ha!

Parrots.

Oh, sir, if you keep grinning I won't go with you! 'pon my honor.

Capt. C.

Now I'm serious, ha! ha! ha!

(Exeunt.)

SCENE II.—CYPRESS'S lodgings.

Enter CYPRESS.

Cypress.

Pay two guineas a week here and an old beldam keep no maid! Oblige me to open doors, and get myself insulted by all the raff in the streer. I'll directly for town—pack up my cloaths—

(Enter Colin crying.)

Colin.

Yes, sir, it's all along of you!

Cypress.

Colin! what's the matter?

Colin.

You wou'd bring me away last night todling after you, and while I was out mistress was in a worry to send me with a letter.

Cypress.

Ay to Captain Clifford I warrant, I'm glad I didn't send my letter to her.—well?

Colin.

And so when I com'd hoame, Colin, says she, you're an honest creature and the best zarvant that ever flourised a flambeau, but I discharge you for an idle vagabond. I've lost my place on your account, and if you've any conscience you'll get me another or take me yourself.

Cypress.

This fellow will tell me all her secrets. (aside.)

Colin.

I'm now an honest mon out of bread, bread bes the staff of life, and without it I shall tumble down, as you wou'd was I to trip you up. (pushes him.)

Cypress.

Damn your illustrations you dog!—but his coming is a propos, to prepare and attend me on my journey—I fear you're a sad fellow—

Colin.

Yes, sir, I bes sad out of pleace, hire me, and I'll be a merry fellow.

Cypress.

But living with a lady has spoil'd you.

Colin.

But I have liv'd with a gentelman who was sometimes a prince! sometimes a Roman duke!

Cypress.

Did he keep a coach?

Colin.

No, sir, he was an Italian, so the English nobility kept a coach for him, sir. My master sung in the Haymarket, he told me, sir, he used to sing for the Pope; ecod, he was a comical fellow, they call'd him the first Buffalo.

AIR.—COLIN.

MASTIERI wasi Opera singer,

Liv'd in Alley call'd Cramboni,

In his ring he wore a singer,

Much be lov'd to munch Bologni!

Sop'd it in vinegarini,

And shake over pepperini.

Caro then his month he'd open,

With no pia Andrac,

[Sags in Italian stile.]

In the coffee house Spring Garden,

Signior would so spendi farden,

At the Orange take his coffee,

Fianoiffimo drinks off he.

At the bar whips op a jelli,

Reads then newspaperelli,

Nice sallad, if he shou'd eye any,

With peenyo he will buy any.

If it have dandilioni,

Saladini, beetrootini,

Endivini, celerini,

Napkinnini, swingidini,

Cuto with the knife or forko

Jaw to worko, draw se corko.

Flasky glaski,

Primo, Brimo,

Brinky, winki,

Soko, Joko,

As he pass Hay—marketti,

Horse in carto there he metti,

Hair-bag full was stuffed with hay,

Hungry Horso drag away,

Look like ninni,

Ladies grinni,

I approachi,

Call a coachi.

To del watermano throw;

Penny si fottissimo

He steps in step up I puto,

On his fingers, door I shuto,

Squall whip smacko.

Pavement, cracko,

Pall-Mall-dini,

Cockspurini

Up Strandini,

From Sanguini,

Buy Pomatum

For my patum,

Tavistocko,

For my blocko;

Of Vickeri,

Buy false hairi,

Hardhamofi,

Snuff my nosei,

Me a caro,

Temple Baro,

Fetter Lani,

Sausageani,'

Buy of Longman,

Pretty songman;

Signior fill his Pockets full,

Sail to Italy backino,

Dere he laugh at Johnny Bull,

in his superfine Caffino.

Cypress.

Well, I'll try you—step to the castle Inn, desire them to send me a post chaise about eleven; tell the master I'd join for part, if he knows any infirm old lady or gentleman, because on a journey I'm very tender of the sick.

Colin.

So am I, sir, 'twou'd do your heart good to get sick only to see how careful I'd nurse you— law, I had it of feyher and mother; an old friend, (that they didn't care two—pence about, only hoped he'd leave them something when he kicked,) was woundy ill in our street; mother used to make him nice barley-broths—and wi little puddings;—ecod, she once sent him a roast chicken, and would you think it, after all, he slip'd up to heaven without leaving them a marvadee!

Cypress.

That was a bilk! to heaven! no, he slip'd down to t'other place, for his damn'd ingratitude!

Colin.

Then, sir, when you are sick, I'll take such care of you, that the sooner you go up to heaven, ard leave me something—the better for us both; 'twill be so unexpected you know, (going.)

Cypress.

Hem?mdash;where are you going?

Colin.

To bid them have chay at twelve.

Cpress.

There, wrong already, I said eleven; when I give you a message always repeat my words exactly.

Colin.

I woll; but, sir, old landlady's gone out again, and a lady inquir'd for you as I com'd in.

Cypress.

Oh, 'tis lady Squab; true, I promised to ride with her to Rottingdeane—plague on't I've no humour for parties of pleasure.

Colin.

She be sitting in parlour great chair.

Cypress.

Weil, there let her sit, and when she's tired she may walk off. (peevish.)

Colin.

(Bawling) Lady Squab! sit in big chair, and when you're tired, walk off!

Cypress.

S'death and fury!

Colin.

Wasn't that speaking your words exactly?

Cypress.

Never bawl out so! (knocking without.) That's Tom Nibble, don't say I'm at home.

Colin.

I won't. Exit.

Cypress.

My brains boiling from Seraphina's falsehood, and teaz'd by a parcel of people galloping in upon me, all in impudent rude health too, no speculation of advantage from their death.

Re-enter COLIN.

Colin.

(Softly.) Sir, I told Mr. Nibble; he bes in the next room, writing a card to leave.

Cypress.

What do you say? I hate whispering.

Colin.

Zur! I told the gentleman you wan't at home, as you desired me. (very loud.)

Cypress.

The devil's in the fellow's bawling!

Colin.

Why, law, sir, a poor servant don't know when to tell lies and when to tell truth.

Cypress.

Tell lies to all the world, but truth to your master. Colin, I think your mistress will repent losing me; she fancies her Captain Clifford a very charming object in his blue sleev'd waistcoat, and his brass cap and feathers, and sword—when I'm dress'd! eh, Colin?

Colin.

Yes, sir, you've the advantage of the captain, he looks handsome in his regimentals, but you're ugly always.

Cypress.

What, sirrah?

Colin.

Tell truth to my master! besides, sir, every body that saw you thresh'd on the Steine, says you're such a desperate coward.

Cypress.

What! I must retrieve my character, (takes ink and paper,) right; I'll send that Irish fellow a challenge; bring me a light. (Cypress writes, exit Colin.) I don't know who the scoundrel is, or Where he is to be found, but Colin will spread the report through Brighton that I did challenge him, which will answer the same purpose.

Re-enter COLLIN.

Colin.

Ugly always!

Cypress.

How dare you say, and even repeat such a thing to me?

Colin.

Tell truth to my master.

Cypress.

Truth, hem! yes, my lad; but discretion bids us not to be over ready with our tongues; think three times before you speak once, (writes with his head near the candle.) You must find out that gentleman that affronted me yesterday on the Steine, and bear him this my mortal challenge.

Colin.

Yez, sir, —I think once, I think twice, I think three times, —your wig's on fire! (it blazes.)

Cypress.

Get away from me you rascal! [beats him] I take such a fellow?—burn my wig!—my challenge all blotted too!

Colin.

Don't trouble yourself, sir; here comes the very gentleman, so you may deliver it yourself.

Cypress.

I will. [tears it] oh, lord! I'm going to London; help me with my luggage, sirrah. [Pulls trunks about, throws clothes over him.]

Enter PARROTS.

Parrots.

Well, as the captain has sent me now to the right executor, he has made amends for all his capers.—Oh! lucky, stop boy, as you saw me trim the old man yesterday you must stay, and be my voucher that I did it; there's, half-a-crown for your gentility—oh, the gentleman, I presume; good morning to you, sir; according to the will, I beat the old man yesterday, and if you don't believe it, here's a witness.

Cypress.

Eh! [turns, Parrots surprized.]

Colin.

Oh! sir, he'll believe it without my oath.

Parrots.

Boy, return me that half-crown.

[Exit Colin.]

Cypress.

If you're come to renew your barbarism, I'll bawl murder out of the window, you villain.

Parrots.

I'm had again!—I might expect this, when the captain got upon his red night caps—I find now he has brought me to the same house, only it looks into another street.—

Cypress.

Begone!

Parrots.

Sir, are you Mr. Cypress, or Captain Tomkins, or the executor, or the dead man, or the legatee, administrator, or testator? In the devil's name, who are you? I have earn'd the legacy, and will have it.

Cypress,

What legacy?

Parrots.

The hundred pound!

Cypress.

Are you dreaming? Who told you of this hundred pound?

Parrots.

Why, faith, a queer kind of genius enough set me on, —but, do you know one Capt. Clifford?

Cypress.

Capt. Clifford! I see it, a concerted plan between him and Miss Melcomb. (aside.) You've been imposed on.

Parrots,

Why, I suspect there has been some hum; but no harm done; I wish you good morning.

Cypress.

Sir, there has been a deal of harm, and I'll have justice.

Parrots.

Be easy, you look like a kind hearted gentleman.

Cypress.

Zounds! who are you?

Parrots

Sir, I'm a gentleman without an estate, tho' I'm an elder brother, as my father had no son but myself, so I'm oblig'd to live upon secondhand voices; since there's no legacy, I must exhibit my imitations in the big room, [aside.] Sir, my bill, I hope you'll honour it. [gives bill.]

Cypress.

The devil, are you Mr. Parrot's, the Mimic? Very lucky you are, for I intended to have kill'd you.

Parrots.

I'faith that wou'd have been a new thing to me.

Cypress.

The very man I wish'd to see.

Parrots.

I thought so, sir, therefore introduced myself to you.

Cypress.

What, with your oak sapling, you wicked fellow? however, I forgive all; I'll start you a character to mimic, the most whimsical lady!

Parrots.

But is she well known?—a great bird?

Cypress.

Who? Miss Melcomb! the feather of the fashion.—Oh! she once lov'd me.

tarrets.

And she doesn't now? well, second thoughts are best.My dear sir introduce me to her.

Cypress.

She won't let me introduce myself.

Parrots.

But I must hear her actions, and see her talk, or how die devil can I mimic her?

Landlady,

[with out.] Yes, sir, very airy.

Cypress.

This cursed old woman, dancing the people in upon me to see die lodgings.

Enter LANDLADY and HARRY.

Landlady.

Ay, sir, you'll not find more pleasant lodgings in the town.

Harry.

Oh; somebody here [struts about] dem it, madam, band-boxes! not room to whip a cat— [opens windows, flings chairs about, throws himself en sofa] don't let me disturb any body.—Eh! sure the old blade that sent the card to my lady this morning.

Cypress.

Peggy's other servant! (aside.)

Parrots.

A very saucy conceited gentleman this.;

Harry.

No object in the prospect. (Looking out of the window, Parrots snatches hat and flings it out of window.)

Parrots.

Now, sir, you've a capital object, how d'ye like it.

Harry.

Dem me, sir!—well, ma'am, if I don't see any thing more to my fancy, I shall call again.

Exit.

Cypress.

His mistress send him to look for lodgings in this house! then she can't know I live here. [aside.] That was Miss Melcomb's servant, run after him, he'll put you in the way of seeing his lady, who, if you can by your mimicking make a ridiculous laughing stock—

Parrots.

But you must bring me a great deal of company, —fill my rooms, with an overflow.

Cypress.

Yes, yes—and forgive you all.

Parrots.

Thanky', sir, but if I offend a man, till I make him reparation I can't forgive myself, therefore I must ask your pardon in;resence of all the people that saw me wrong you.

Cypress.

What repeated! I desire it may end here.

Parrots.

I'll make ample atonement, for I'll say, sir, I'm sorry I stigmatiz'd you by beating your fine old back about, with my dirty little bit of a stick.

Cypress.

Zounds! this will be more disgrace than the thing itself.

Parrots,

The Steine is now full, come, sir.

Cyprss.

What the devil, sir! I'll not go!

Parrots.

Do you think I've nothing to do but to thresh you, then deny me an occasion to rub off as I go? Come,—

Cypress.

Damnation, sir! I do forgive you.

Parrots.

What here in a closet? Your nan acceptance of my conception; is a demand of satisfaction, that's my inference.

Cypress.

Confound your infernal inference and impudence.

Parrots.

Only walk with me up the Steine, before the pavilion, on the parade—and I will, in the hearing of them all—

Cypress,

Get out of my house.

Parrots.

Have a care, or before I clear off one flogging, you'll make me give you another why, I believe I must keep a tally to score down all the apologies I have to make you.

Cypress.

Well, ir, I attend you.

Parrots.

No, sir, I'll wait oh you.

Cypress.

Curse your positeness. Exeunt,

SCENE III.—Pavilion, Parade.

Company conversing, walking, &c. Carriages, borses, croud, tents, sentinels, &c. Military band; first, wind instruments, plaintive Scotch air; then drums and fifes—quick Irish tune.

Enter JULIA in regimentals,

Julia,

I think I've past, hitherto, quite, officer-like:—now for'a loving attack upon my aunt Margaret.— From, the time she came out, she should be here by this.

AIR—JULIA.

My blushes I must with my sex now forget,

Tho' coy I'm no longer a maid,

In bright burnish'd Gorget a brazen face set,

A ball room shall be my parade,

In nice chicken gloves as I gallantly stand,

While siddles for action prepare,

For dear pas-de-deux, give the word of command

And gracefully foot to the fair,

With ha! ha! ha! Fal-tal-ta! Sa, sa, sa

II.

At mess when old care in a bumper is drowned,

Let the toast give a zest to each glass,

When Bacchus the temples of Cupid has crowned,

I reel off to my favourite lass,

"Most lovely," says I, "O thou witty and fair,

Permit me to play with your fan,"

I'll strut and I'll smile, dem it quite militaire!

'Pon my soul I'm a very fine man!

With ha-ha-ha, &c.

Enter PARROTS.

Parrots.

When I thought he was coming out of the street door with me, to run back and lock himself up in his garret! Captain Clifford told me he Was as strong as a camel! Oh, here's Miss Melcomb's saucy footman.

Enter HARRY calling.

Harry,

Madam!—Well, ma'am, I've seen variety of lodgings.

Julia.

Hush! how indiscreet. apart.

Parrots.

Madam!—I'm sure he did say madam. Oh, oh! then this must be the lady Cypress desired me to mimick, Such a beautiful creature love him! may be so, as the F's fat, fair, and forty was all the toast of the young men.—Who knows but the S's shriveled, fallow, and sixty may be the rage of the young women. Aside.

Julia.

If Clifford quits Brighton, and carries my aunt off with him, I shall have no occasion to change.

Exit Harry. Music plays.

Parrots.

This Irish music is very fine.—Pray, sir, how do you like Planxty Connor?

Julia.

I don't know any such person.

Parrots.

Person! why, sir, its—'Pon my soul she is a pretty little fellow!—Drest herself up for some frolick I suppose.—When a lady is inclin'd for fun, a gentleman should take half the business on himself. Aside.

Julia.

I must brazen it out. (Aside.) Sir, you spoke to me.—Any businesis?

Parrots.

Why, sir, I have no objection, sir.

Julia.

Over a bottle?

Parrots.

Ay, sir, any way, sir! that's a pretty cap upon your head; isn't it heavy? doesn't it hurt your forehead?

Julia.

This. (Takes off the belmet.) Oh, no; I'm used to wearing a cap.

Parrots,

Hem! I believe you are indeed. (Aside.) that's a fine big sword: who tied you to it?

Julia.

What, sir!(fiercely.) sir, my sword is tied to me.

Parrots.

It it, sir?—Oh, she is a lovely little soul; but can she think of such an old crab as Cypress! however, as he'll pay me for mimicking her, I'll do it;—and now to catch her manner. Aside.

Julia.

My captain! I dare say to meet my aunt, for yonder she trips:—I must keep up my character though. (Aside.) But, sir, the aforesaid bottle.

Parrots.

Ay, sir, I'm for a bottle and its concomitants.

DUETTE.

Give Jove divine! a merry companion to me,

Then with g jod wine a very boon couple are we.

Leave no space in your jolly full glass:

In your empty glass leave no wine:

By drinking deep this, and high filling that!

We make our noses shine.

Give Love divine! my favourite girl to me;

Then with good wine, a very fond couple are we.

But if she think of another whilst I

To her my soul resign,

A rosy bumper my heart shall cheer!

And make our noses shine.

Enter CAPTAIN CLIFFORD.

Capt. C.

Julia take lodgings in the very house with Cypress!

Parrots.

Oh, Captain, are not you ashamed of yourself?

Capt. C.

Parrots! what are you at here?

Parrots.

My business!—I.'m come to mimic Miss Melcomb.

Capt. C.

What!—unkind as she is, I can't suffer this. (Aside.) Harkye, Mr. Parrots, we shall quarrel if you turn your talents of mimickrv to any freedom with that lady.

Parrots.

You have turned your talents of hum to a great deal of freedom with me.—I've play'd enough; I must now work a little.

Julia.

Oh, here is my aunt Margaret. (Aside. Puts up glasss,) A devilish fine woman, 'pon my soul

Parrots.

"Devilish fine woman, 'pon my soul."

Mimicks.

Capt. C.

What little martinet have we here?"

parrots.

"What little martinet have we here?"

(Mimicks.)

Serjeant.

(Without.) To the right about!

Parrots.

"To the right about!" (Mimicks.) Zounds, sir! you've confused me so, I don't know whose voice I'm catching at; if it's the lady's, or the serjeant's, or yourself, or myself.

Enter MISS MELCOMB, in riding habit—JULIA bows to her, kisses her hand sighs passionately, and exit.

Capt. C.

Parrots, who is that puppy?

Parrots.

Oh, he's a very great admirer of one Miss Melcomb.

Capt. C.

Indeed! (Exit hastily.)

Miss M.

M. A very impudent young man!

Parrots.

Oh, you are gready affronted.

Irtmically aside.

Miss M.

I think 1 look better listening to the music on horseback, beating time with my little whip. Eh, isn't that my lord? Title is charming! the privilege of dressing as one pleases, (no matter how) it's soon follow'd because worn by 'the Duchess! talk loud in the libraries! politics, a bold manly voice, stagger about, have a finical dangling church beau snuffling and flammering, "Yes, maddam, just the opinion of Montesquieu, your grace." Then I look round, to see the small gentry's embarassment—As I canter by their parlour windows, make a full stop, up with my glass, then hey, gallop off, turn full front like a gallant officer!

Parrots.

Faith I thiink she throws a bit of an ogle upon me—I'll give her a little touch of one of my die aways—hiegho! (sighs, kisses his handkerchief and gazes at her.)

Miss M.

That gentleman seems to admire, what timid bashfulness, —only steals a glance.

Parrots.

One may guess what's the matter with this dowager, how she's bridling, and purring about, like an old tabby cat.

Miss. M.

Seems deeply smitten.

Parrots.

The devil (she'll stretch her neck off her head! heavens! how she rolls her twinklers, now she shuts them, there's a smile looping the corners of her mouth to the gusset of her eyes. Faith I believe it's for me; we are making swans and peacocks of ourselves; this may be a shorter cut to the cash than my imitations, I'll say something comical and witty to her— (aside.) Pray, ma'am, what's a'clock?

Miss M.

Sir, I'm past two.

Parrots.

Yes, madam, you are past two—and, forty (aside.) Lord, madam, how fond you young ladies are of walking up and down.

Miss M.

I wish I hadn't been so hasty in discharging that simple fool Colin, I already feel the inconvenience of being without a servant.

Parrots.

Speak your commands, madam; shall I order your carriage? is that it! with shoulder knots on the horses heads?

Miss M.

No, sir, but it's an handsome equipage.

Parrots.

That's the reason, madam, I thought it was yours, for when one is handsome themselves it gives a beauty to every thing that belongs to them. I'm ambitious madam to be your's, for at present I'm but an ordinary fellow.

Miss M.

Be mine, sir.! what do you mean?

Parrots.

Faith, I believe I was too quick to the point there. (aside.) Madam, I meant—no meaning at all. (bows.)

Miss M.

A very polite man indeed. (aside.) Oh, sir, when a tender idea comes in the shape of a compliment, 'tis an over-delicate modesty to be asham'd of revealing it.

Parrots.

Yes, madam, modesty is the fault of all my countrymen. Mine had like to have been the death of me; last week a great musician, no faith he was a physician, ordered me—saying, "Mr. Parrots you shou'd go into the hot-bath." So I went ma'am, and I saw two doors close together, by my soul I was so modest that I didn't ask the man which was which, so opening one, instead of the hot, I plung'd over head and ears into the cold bath. Oh, the shock was such a devil of a surprize!

Miss M.

Ha! ha! ha? I protest, sir, just such an error was made—

Parrots.

Wirh who pray, ma'am?

Miss M.

My lap-dog little Bluff! but I sent the dear creature to the cold, and the man slung him into the hot bath.

Parrots.

The same mistake as mine, only 'twas quite the reverse; what was the matter with the pretty little soul?

Miss M.

What soul, sir?

Parrots.

Your lap dog, madam!

Miss M.

Oh the dear little animal, quite in the gaitedu coeur, was frisking about to amuse me, jumping up to catch flies, unfortunately swallowed one.

Parrots.

Swallow a live fly, ma'am! You shoul'd have made him swallow a spider to destroy it.

Miss M.

And pray, sir, what shou'd I have sent after the spider?

Parrots.

There, madam, ends my skill as a glass blower; however I'll illustrate it by example, suppose a poor debtor was flying from his country in a ship—my case, (aside,) the ship is cast away, and the debtor's swallowed by a whale, —not my case— (aside,) then I'd send an attorney after him.

Miss M.

Very pleasant, —but then what wou'd you send after him?

Parrots.

Belzebub himself! oh I warrant the devil would bring up the attorney, as sure as a pair of nutcrackers!

(Enter COLIN.)

Colin.

No pleasing that beggarly four crab, I wish my lady wou'd forgive me; oh here she is, and that Irish buck smirking at her: now or never's my time to catch her in a good humour, (aside.) do, my lady, pray take me again into your service; kind sir! put in a good word for me.

Parrots.

I will; madam, if the poor devil has had the misfortune to offend you, I'll answer he'll never repeat it, and the next time he does, cashier him, without bail or main-prize.

Colin.

If Mr. Cypress gets me to neglect you again, this gentleman, my friend, here, shall lay two ponies on his back, like a pair of drumsticks.

Miss M.

Well, mind your business in future.

Colin.

Yes, ma'am (joyful.) porter brought back letter last night from Mr. Cypress, 'tis on your toilet, ma'am.

Miss. M.

Don't talk to me of Mr. Cypress.—I can't bear those staring officers!—Colin, prepare the horses, I'll ride towards the camp.

Parrots.

One way to avoid the officers. (aside.)

Miss M.

No, it's like to rain—I'll take an airing in the sociable.

Parrots.

Ma'am t'other day I and a friend went out in my sociable, and we convers'd very jocose, at last we quarrelled about spelling of a finger post, and my friend pull'd my nose in my sociable, and I with one bother knock'd my friend out of his sociable.—Madam, will you step over to Mr. Jones's shop to hear him play on his Welth harp?

(Enter JULIA.)

Julia.

Permit me the honour, mem—mem, your hand. aside.

Miss M.

The pretty little officer! oh sy, sir, d'ye think l'd admit such liberties, sir? I don't know what you mean, sir! I'd have you to know, sir! I'm not the person, sir!

Julia.

Oh mem—dear mem— pon my soul, mem—that is—sir, your most: obedient (triumphantly to PARROTS. Exit galanting Miss MELCOMB.)

Parrots.

Well this is fine, after all my modesty and politeness she has walk'd off with the impudent little officer—hollo Dowager you're mistaken in your man, I've heard of such marriages; oh mustn't let the fine old lady be deceiv'd; eh, isn't that my friend the Rev. Dick Bellange, oh, oh! I'll talk to him. Exit.

SCENE IV.— The street before Miss MELCOMBS' bouses.

(Enter COLIN and Captain CLIFFORD.)

Capt. C.

Stop, my lad!—but why should I teaze myself, —what concern to me now where Julia goes!—yet to take lodgings in the very house with Cypress!—by heavens!—I will talk to her about it.

Colin.

Sir, I did stop, what bes I to do now?

Capt. C.

Where are you going?

Colin.

I bes not going, —I stand still!

Capt. C.

Is your lady at home?

Colin.

Noa, in the music shop, with a beautiful little officer.

Capt. C.

Turned off old Cypress, and now got a beautiful little officer? (aside.)

Colin.

Good bye, sir, 'tis as much as my pleace be worth, —not to moin'd my business now,—

(going.)

Capt. C.

Eh, but isn't it there your lady lives? the house next door to me?

Colin.

I knows nought of what house wives next door to you, but Miss Melcomb, my mistress bides here.

Capt. C.

Well I thought Julia liv'd—but no matter; I'll stop till she comes in. runs in.

Colin.

He says he'll stop, and then he jumps up stairs, and when I stop, he cries, "where be you going?" I'll be hanged if this young chap, be's not in love; ah when a mon's in love, he does'nt know which he should put, his hat, or his pumps, on his head, or his heels.

Enter HARRY.

Harry.

My brother!—Ah Colin! how d'ye do? how d'ye do? (foppishly)

Colin.

How yee do' how yee do? (aping)

Harry.

'Pon my soul, my dear fellow, I languish'd for this rencontie' to interrogate you about this family, —you say you live with—

Colin.

I bes as curious to know about the family you lives with.

Harry.

Well, but we havn't time to talk over our own affairs now.—Pray did you see an Officer go in there? (points.)

Colin.

What Captain Clifford? he be's just brushed into our house.

Harry.

Oh! then you and your Miss Melcombe live here? I and my Miss Melcombe live here, next door to the Captain. I'm charged with an embassy to him from my lady. (going)

Colin.

Hold, — (interposing)—since my pleace is so uncertain, whilst I'm in I should make the most by perquisites.— (aside.)—Your embassy is certainly about love, and when a gentleman receives a kind message from a lady, he always well rewards the person that brings it, —so I'll be dom'd brother Harry, if you set nose over threshold, till you promise to give me half of whatever you get.

Harry.

Ha I ha! well I will. (goes in.)

Enter CYPRESS.

Cypress.

Oh, boy!

Colin.

Measter Cypress! As I have got my pleace, I don't valy him an auld gooseberry.

Cypress.

I may take a wrangling leave of Peggy however.—Did you bespeak the chaise as I ordered you?

Colin.

You order me! auld bosky Joe!

Cypress.

What d'ye mean, sirrah?

Colin.

I mean that there bes a deal of dirt in my livery coat, so I wish you'd put it on your kettle back, till I and my friend drum it out, old punmplenose!

Cypress.

You scoundrel, an't you my servant?

Colin.

Yes, sir, I bes your most humble servant. bows and goes in.

Cypress.

Ho! ho! (exit after.)

SCENE V. MISS MELCOMB'S dressing room.

Enter CAPTAIN CLIFFORD.

Capt. C.

Oh Miss Melcomb's dressing room!— I'm impatient, yet dread to see her.— (looking at his watch.)—I don't like quarrels—life, where we esteem, should be a summer's day of sweet complacency. Eh! Julia's toilet seems odly furnish'd! phials, and stuffs of lotion! Paregoric Elixir! lozenges, eh, books, prophecies! Buchan! novels, "female stability!"—Oh from this she has studied her new attachment for Cypress, the devil, she does'nt paint? A wig! why she seems chang'd in soul, mind, and person!—Yet her face to day retain'd all its native loveliness! Oh, here's her other servant.—Shall I question him?—No, that's mean.

Enter HARRY.

Harry.

Sir, my lady has sent me—

Capt. C.

Oh then she is not come home from the music shop?

Harry.

Sir, she's gone to take an airing towards Preston; but sends her compliments, and begs you'll not quit Brighton without seeing her.

Capt. C.

Still think of me!—I may wrong her.— (aside.)—Very well, for your agreeable message, here— offering money

Enter COLIN out of breath.

Colin.

Dam that old codger to stop me! come in time though, —you're right sir, brother Harry, deserves a guinea.—Mind, I'm to have half.—I've ten shillings change, ready money.— (apart.)

Harry.

Oh, oh, —sir, pardon me, but, if you think my message deserves a reward, pray let it be about a dozen—

Colin.

Twelve?—Deuce of your impudence?

Harry.

Smart, pretty, round, hard—kicks.

Capt. C.

What's here—a letter for Cypress, treacherous Julia! (a loud knocking without.)

Colin.

My lady!

Capt. C.

Julia! A man's voice!—hum, —not a word of my being here, and I'll fairly divide the kicks and blows. (runs in.)

Exit Colin and Harry wrangling.

Enter JULIA and MISS MELCOMB.

Julia.

Yes, mem, the harp is delectable, but you have a fine voice, mem.

Miss M.

Oh, sir, you have a fine taste.

Julia.

Yes, ma'am, and I've now and then the Voice of a humming bird, —singing convivial songs at our mess, —has rather impaired—then we officers are obliged to give the word of command full and bold. gives the word of Command.

Miss M.

Oh, sir, you military gentlemen are so terribly charming!

Enter PARROTS.

Parrots.

No, madam, it is I that am terrible, because you are charming.—I tell you what, sir, I thought you were harmless, but now I'm afraid of you, so quit this lady, except you can parry a bullet.

Julia.

Oh, sir, you shall see that— exit hastily.

Miss M.

Heaven's! I'm all terror! Sir, declare, what brought you on the Steine this morning?

Parrots.

To take off the lovely Miss Melcomb.

Miss M.

Indeed! but not without my consent?

Parrots.

I didn't know that was necessary when Mr. Cypress bid me —

Miss M.

He! then he wants to recede—an answer to my letter last night,— (takes it)—heaven's! tis my own sent back unopened. Yet it will break his heart if I give my hand to another— (aside)—he! he! he! then, sir, you are determined to take me off?

Parrots.

You, madam! why, this fine Maccau thinks I mean to mimick her too! Yet, how smiling she looks.— (aside.) Then, madam, to watch and catch you.— (mimicks)—Oh, charming lady! I have you! my manner of taking you off, must give univerfal pleasure.

Miss M.

But, sir, consider—don't let the ardour of your passion—

Parrots.

The ardour of my passion!

Miss M.

The attempt to run away with me would be so exceedingly romantic.

Parrots.

Then I'm to run away with her too! Oh, very well.—Tho' we had two meanings, we're both of one mind.— (aside.)—My lovely soul!—

Embraces her.

Enter JULIA with pistols.

Julia.

Now, sir, the survivor take the lady.

Parrots.

Then I will take you my brave little lady.

Julia.

Heaven's! discovered! (aside.)

Parrots.

Come to me, yourself, big sword and pistols.— (embraces her.)

Miss M.

Oh, this great man, will kill my pretty little officer!

Enter CLIFFORD enraged.

Cap. C.

Beyond all doubt, have I caught you.

Parrots.

Hem!—"Pray, sir, does one Captain Tomkins live here?"—

Miss M.

Heavens!—

Parrots.

Peace!—I'll have you, my brave charmer! (embraces Miss Melcomb.)

Enter CYPRESS.

Cypress.

What the devil are you about with my Peggy?

Miss M.

Oh, mercy! here are four gentlemen will fight—and perhaps all be kill'd for me—oh, what mischief in our sascinating sex!

Julia.

So, captain Clifford, you've set your heart on this lady?

Capt. C.

sir! I know nothing about that lady.

Julia.

Really! and was it not to address her that you quitted me—oh, lord! (aside.)

Capt. C.

You!

Miss M.

Why, certainly it is—

Capt. C.

My Julia!

Julia.

Ha, ha, ha! then since I have inadvertently discovered myself—my dear aunt, how glad I am to see you.

Miss M.

My niece in this scandalous metamorphoses! go, you are a shame to your sex;.

Parrots.

Faith, such a pretty little fellow wou'd do honour to a hundred of our sexes—How do you do, major?

Capt. C.

Ha, ha, ha? come Julia, you must forgive me ha! ha! ha! I see now our odd mistakes proceeded from—ha! ha!ha! I never once thought of your aunt!

Cypress.

Nor did I know the aunt had a neice.

Enter COLIN.

Colin.

Mr. Parrots, the parson bes waiting up stairs to do the job you bespoke him for.

Miss M.

What, sir! have you brought a parson into my house too?

Parrots.

Madam, he foretold he shou'd marry me to you; and the devil take him that makes a false prophet of a everend divine!

Cypress.

Fire and fury! a fine blunder you've made with your stupid mimickries—Peggy, sure you won't—

Parrots.

Be quiet, or I'll ask your pardon before the whole blessed bevy here. (aside.) Don't wait for legacies of dead men's shoes, but buy new pumps to dance at the four weddings of us two.

[takes Clifford's hand.]

Capt. C.

What says my lovely Julia? but let things go as they will, I'll give an entertainment at Tilts! and who knows but Cupid and Bacchus may light the torch of Hymen!

Parrots.

Yes, when my dowager gets a sup in her eye, she'll be able to see all my perfections double—and while the bottle goes round, my only imitations shall be to'take off my glass!

FINALE.

JULIA.

Love is ever breaking

Laws of his own making,

Tho' his mandates tell us,

We should ne'er be jealous,

Yet what's most endearing.

Still to lose we're fearing.

PARROTS.

Merry I, so you sing,

Fun our fun producing,

Hearts of care we lighten,

Joyous jokes at Brighton!

Chorus.

Merry I, so you sing,

COLIN.

Here I've eat fine wheat ears,

Sop'd in sea my neat ears;

Gollop'd South-down Mutton,

Tipsey Steine I strut on!

Chorus.

Merry I so you sing, &c.

JULIA.

Light is my dragooning,

Sauntring, tripping, toning!

Captain fierce array'd is,

But to kill the Ladies.

Chorus.

Merry I, so you sing, &c.

CYPRESS.

I myself could kill! so

Vex'd, I'll make my will tho'

And to one old Save-all,

That's myself, I'll leave all.

Chorus.

Merry I, so you sing, &c.

MISS MELCOMB.

Farewell Paregoric!

Gentle tales of Yorick

Loll me soft to slumber!

Sweet delights well number.

Chorus.

Merry I, so you sing, &c.

PARROTS.

Sweet our moon of honey,

Sweet l'll touch your money;

Then so brisk and airy,

Hey for Tipperary!

Chorus.

Merry I, so you sing, &c.

Information about this book

Title statement

The Irish mimic: or blunders at Brighton: a musical entertainment in two acts. As performed at the Theatre-Royal, Covent-Garden. With universal applause. Written by John O'Keeffe.

O'Keeffe, John, 1747-1833.

Publication

Distributor

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

ID [ota]

http://ota.ox.ac.uk/id/4561

ID [isbn10]

1106015606

ID [isbn13]

9781106015600

ID [TCP]

K061113.000

ID [BIBNO]

cw3310142444

ID [ECLL]

0058200400

Availability

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

Source

— The Irish mimic: or blunders at Brighton: a musical entertainment in two acts. As performed at the Theatre-Royal, Covent-Garden. With universal applause. Written by John O'Keeffe., O'Keeffe, John, 1747-1833.. [2],54p. ; 8⁰. London :: printed for T. N. Longman,. 1795.. [Without the music.] [Drop-head title on p.[1]: 'A lounge at Brighton'.] [A variant has p. 54 misnumbered 45.] [Reproduction of original from the British Library.] [English Short Title Catalog, ESTCT72078.] [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).]

Creation

Created by converting TCP files to TEI P5 using tcp2p5.xsl, TEI @ Oxford.

Editorial practices

This electronic text file was keyed from page images and partially proofread for accuracy. Character capture and encoding have been done following the guidelines of the ECCO Text Creation Partnership, which correspond roughly to the recommendations found in Level 4 of the TEI in Libraries Guidelines. Digital page images are linked to the text file.