 | The choice spirits feast |  |
6
2. SECOND PART.
RECITATIVE.
The Praise of Drinking, then the choicest Spirit sung.SONG.
Come my Bucks, let to-night be devoted to drinking,
To-morrow's too soon to be troubled with thinking.
No more shall Time preach, nor no more shall we hear it,
For he's drown'd as he ought in a Hogshead of Claret.
To-morrow's too soon to be troubled with thinking.
No more shall Time preach, nor no more shall we hear it,
For he's drown'd as he ought in a Hogshead of Claret.
Now Time is no more, or no more can forbid us,
Of that troublesome Guest a Choice Spirit has rid us;
Yet if Time shou'd be wanting for any Design,
Henceforth he is found in a Hogshead of Wine.
Of that troublesome Guest a Choice Spirit has rid us;
Yet if Time shou'd be wanting for any Design,
Henceforth he is found in a Hogshead of Wine.
Since Time is confin'd to our Wine let us think
By this Rule we are sure of our time when we drink.
Come, my Bucks, let your Glasses with Bumpers be prim'd,
Now we're certain our Drinking is always well tim'd.
By this Rule we are sure of our time when we drink.
Come, my Bucks, let your Glasses with Bumpers be prim'd,
Now we're certain our Drinking is always well tim'd.
RECITATIVE.
Now the Heart-raising Horn at Distance blew,Swift to the Chace, away the Sportsmen flew:
Shouting they rend the Air, each Hill resounds,
Loud neigh the Steeds, and louder ope the Hounds,
From babbling Eccho back the Noise rebounds.
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And hunted every Chace again,
And Cover thrice he broke; and thrice he slew the Slain.
SONG.
I
Here was a Hare kill'd, and there a Fox fell;Here a Leap took wou'd startle a Cæsar;
There they unharbour'd, and there rung his Knell,
And here it was hit off, hark forward to Teizer.
Then they their Bumpers above-head advancing,
All fell to singing and then fell to dancing.
II
Wonder and Plunder, shrill Thunder and Sue,Blueman and Trueman, with Ringwood and Rowler;
Sweetlips the Babbler, and Tulip so true,
With Darling and Starling, and Tattler and Trowler.
These were the Hounds he hoop'd and he hollow'd
While all the rest reeling with Tolderoll follow'd.
RECITATIVE.
Long ago,E're better Music Britons learn'd to know,
Our British Bards. from whom Choice Spirits come,
Thus rudely garnish'd out each Harvest-home:
Sung Chevy-Chace, and Robin Hood;
Or Corn grows now were Troy Town stood.
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SONG.
No Senesino then was known,Cuzzoni or Faustina;
No Farinelli charm'd the Town,
Nor Comic Nicolina.
But Salt-Box Bang, and Jews-Harp Twang,
With Hurdy Gurdy Grunting,
While others did sing to the Bladder and String,
Like Hogs in high Winds hunting.
RECITATIVE.
Ye social Sons! Ye Lady-loving Race!
Who taste with Transport Love's unfeign'd Embrace;
Who mingle o'er the Wit-enlivening Bowl,
The Feast of Reason and the Flow of Soul.
No more let Dulness in a Foreign Tongue
Taint your true Tastes, nor give up Sense for Song.
Who taste with Transport Love's unfeign'd Embrace;
Who mingle o'er the Wit-enlivening Bowl,
The Feast of Reason and the Flow of Soul.
No more let Dulness in a Foreign Tongue
Taint your true Tastes, nor give up Sense for Song.
Beautys of Britain, ye fair female Race,
Whose Words are Music, and whose Motions Grace:
Joy of all Hearts, Wish of admiring Eyes,
Heav'n's last, best Gift, and Love's luxurious Prize.
Forgive and favour these our rude Essays,
And patronize our rustic Roundelays.
Whose Words are Music, and whose Motions Grace:
Joy of all Hearts, Wish of admiring Eyes,
Heav'n's last, best Gift, and Love's luxurious Prize.
Forgive and favour these our rude Essays,
And patronize our rustic Roundelays.
SONG.
Prithee leave off this dull Panegyric, my Dear,
The Ladys have wished the Choice Spirits to hear,
To divert them this Night in Borlace we appear.
The Ladys have wished the Choice Spirits to hear,
To divert them this Night in Borlace we appear.
Since Singing's the Taste, let us have a Duetta,
Between us we'll make what you call a Burletta,
He shall do the Old Man, and you do Spiletta.
Between us we'll make what you call a Burletta,
He shall do the Old Man, and you do Spiletta.
RECITATIVE.
I've got a Cold, indeed I'm very hoarse,
I fear with singing, Sir—to make it worse.
Yet still I'll strive, nay work like any Negro,
From slow Adagio, up to quick Allegro,
Then change from Forte to the soft Piano;
That I will be,
Si Signor Si,
Indeed a Bon Compagno.
Come, my dear Daughter, come, Miss Nicolina,
I must compose a new Burletta Grinna,
And with my Fingers play the Symphonina.
I fear with singing, Sir—to make it worse.
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From slow Adagio, up to quick Allegro,
Then change from Forte to the soft Piano;
That I will be,
Si Signor Si,
Indeed a Bon Compagno.
Come, my dear Daughter, come, Miss Nicolina,
I must compose a new Burletta Grinna,
And with my Fingers play the Symphonina.
'Tis Dinner-time, I find, my dear Signora;
Go fetch some Steaks, Va—fetch some Steaks, Encora;
While I make Unison of these Stoccato's,
Boil me some Broth, and roast some nice Potatos.
Go fetch some Steaks, Va—fetch some Steaks, Encora;
While I make Unison of these Stoccato's,
Boil me some Broth, and roast some nice Potatos.
SONG.
Volti Largo mi Affetto,Subito Andante.
RECITATIVE.
Put some Greens in Cabbage Netto,And make some Soup Sante.
SONG.
Non Troppo n' Affectuoso,Tace primo Violin.
RECITATIVE.
The Broth will be but so so,If you don't put Oatmeal in.
Thirds, Fifths and Eighths, a Half's above a Quarter,
A Minum's long, a Quaver is much shorter;
Before you lay the Cloth, go get a Pint of Porter.
SONG.
She.Pray, Papa, pray pardon moy,
Son Confusa, ah ma foy.
He.
Fetch some Drink.
She.
Indeed not I, indeed not I, indeed not I.
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You're ill bred, Miss.
She.
That's a Lye.
He.
Gallop, Trollop,
Va Vivace, Va Vivace,
Trollop, Gallop.
She.
Tace Ta.
He.
Le Diable.
She.
Bribble Brabble Barboncina.
He.
Cara Spillatta.
She.
Foolatta.
He.
Le Diable.
She.
Bribble Brabble Piccicina.
He.
Cara Spilatta.
She.
Foolatta Ca.
SONG.
Thus with Jargon they juggle us out of our Money,
With Cara da Capo encore abandoni,
Each Phrase must be fine, it's Nouvelle we are sure on't,
Nouvelle let it be and let us hear no more on't.
With Cara da Capo encore abandoni,
Each Phrase must be fine, it's Nouvelle we are sure on't,
Nouvelle let it be and let us hear no more on't.
Be not Britons misled by a Song or a Dance,
Nor your Fathers forget, they're remember'd in France;
Shall Capers, Concertos, Coupees, Serenadas,
Demolish the Men that demolish'd Armadas.
Nor your Fathers forget, they're remember'd in France;
Shall Capers, Concertos, Coupees, Serenadas,
Demolish the Men that demolish'd Armadas.
The Black Prince and his Father at Poicters and Cressy,
Compos'd some rough Music made Monsieurs uneasy,
King Henry the Fifth too at Agincourts Rout,
Led them up such a Dance that he put them all out.
Compos'd some rough Music made Monsieurs uneasy,
King Henry the Fifth too at Agincourts Rout,
Led them up such a Dance that he put them all out.
To play us a Concert, Spain sent an Armada,
To return it, Drake gave them a Sea Serenada;
This Music was copy'd by Warren and Anson,
Which made the French cry Diable Angleterre Chanson.
To return it, Drake gave them a Sea Serenada;
This Music was copy'd by Warren and Anson,
Which made the French cry Diable Angleterre Chanson.
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Singers, Fiddlers, and Dancers, when first they come here,
Out of Feathers and Flesh, just like Woodcocks appear;
But plump'd by our plenty, they're puff'd into pride,
Give a Beggar a Horse: we know where he'll ride.
Out of Feathers and Flesh, just like Woodcocks appear;
But plump'd by our plenty, they're puff'd into pride,
Give a Beggar a Horse: we know where he'll ride.
Let them Walk, Trot, or Gallop, but send them from hence,
Nor to sound my dear Countrymen sacrifice sense,
Our Wit is invaded, resist now or never,
And defend Common Sense, and Old England for ever.
Nor to sound my dear Countrymen sacrifice sense,
Our Wit is invaded, resist now or never,
And defend Common Sense, and Old England for ever.
SONG.
The last Song and General Chorus.
Of Love Wit and Wine, our Songs we'll raise,
The tripple Alliance we're boasting;
With Wit we can celebrate Beauty's praise,
With Wine we those Beauty's are Toasting.
To Portugals paint or Operas Air,
We never will be in debt Ah!
Pure white and red Blooms in the Face of our Fair,
And Wit has Eclips'd the Burletta.
The tripple Alliance we're boasting;
With Wit we can celebrate Beauty's praise,
With Wine we those Beauty's are Toasting.
To Portugals paint or Operas Air,
We never will be in debt Ah!
Pure white and red Blooms in the Face of our Fair,
And Wit has Eclips'd the Burletta.
Then in Chorus join,
To Love Wit and Wine;
And sound them forth Clever,
To those Men of Taste,
Who on Love Wit feast,
Of Old England, Old England,
Huzza Old England for ever.
To Love Wit and Wine;
And sound them forth Clever,
To those Men of Taste,
Who on Love Wit feast,
Of Old England, Old England,
Huzza Old England for ever.
| The choice spirits feast | |