Midas :: :: University of Virginia Library

Midas

an English Burletta

O'Hara, Kane (1714?-1782)

MIDAS;

ACT III.

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ACT III.

During the symphony, Mercury descends, and walks to and fro, tolling a bell, at intervals, as a public cryer; at the close, in broken air, he publishes the following advertisements.
AIR I.
Merc.
O yes, O yes, O yes, this is to give notice.
Lost, or mislaid
Or stol'n, or stray'd,
From the regions over head,
Or reel'd down to earth, when maudlin,
A finical
Coxcombical
Pert, smock-fac'd, young godling;
He deals
In spells,
And fortunes tells,
Goes snacks
With quacks,
And trades
With jades,
Prying
Spying,
Pratt'ling
Tatt'ling
Up stairs, down stairs ratt'ling.

His carotty locks
As red as a fox;
As a switch tall and thin
Ne'er a rag to his skin,
And answers to the name of Apollo.

Enter Pol.
RECITATIVE.
Pol.
Hush ribald cur, this bawling
Unless you wish a mawling!
Heaven's, what a sink of slander your foul throat is!

Mer.
Oh are you there, master Apollo?
My elbow itch'd; I guess'd at what would follow.

Pol.
Sirrah, you are a rogue beneath my notice.
AIR II. Kiss me fast my mother's coming.

Fine times, when each little
Pimping, upstart court lick-spittle
Worth disgrac'd dares hack and whittle
Shafts of malice throwing.
See the game cock's crest with mud upon't;
Strait the dunghill breed grows proud upon't,
Each bare beak
It's spleen will wreak,
All clapping wings, and crowing.

RECITATIVE.
Mer.
Come come, let's buss, and friends.

Pol.
Not 'till I curry your mungril hide.

Merc.
Poo, let's shake hands, my hurry
Barr'd compliments.—Pray, pray, 'twas joke—I'm sorry.
Jove's in a raging fume, a pelting chafe!
Oh! 'tis such fun, would make even Pluto laugh!

Pol.
Do, let me know't.—I long, for his late kindness
To have him on the hip.

Merc.
Hark then.—His highness,
Safe as he thought himself from your inquires,
Sruck up an assignation with Miss Iris:
Juno o'er heard it all—

Pol.
So had them track'd,
I do suppose, and caught them in the fact.

Merc.
Ah, madam's an old hand:—she better judging,
Lock'd Iris up, and slipt into her lodging;
Lay snug—far'd well—ne'er cried, roast meat, but chuckled,
While old Twangdillo dub'd himself a cuckold.
AIR III. Nancy Dawson.

The Gods were all call'd in to see
How fond a husband Jove could be:
He storm'd; she laughed, yet, rouguishly
Pretended to conceal it.

His fury rose to such a pitch,
He call'd her lewd, case-harden'd witch,
Swore, to his girls he'd stick like pitch,
And wench in open day-light.

RECITATIVE.
Pol.
Oh I shall burst!—a pious resolution!
Means he to put it strait in execution?

Merc.
Now, now; your pardon's sign'd; on double wages
You're to light up, and run, your usual stages:
So mount your box, old geeho, I advise you
Resume your task diurnal,
He threatens t'advertise you
In every weekly Journal.

Pol.
Well, I've a wench, or two—you understand me—
And a drole counter plot some knaves to catch,
Which in a trice, I will dispatch,
And then he may command me.

AIR IV. DUETTO.
Pol.
A monarch may huff,
A senate may rage
In edicts too bluff,
In speeches so sage!
The minister glib
While he gives himself
Thinks how he may crib
For his private affairs.

Merc.
These fatal mistakes
Call aloud for redress;
Consider few rakes
Would their own ribs caress.
A wife in the dark
Only squanders her charms,
Who, 'stead of her spark,
Finds her spouse in her arms.

Pol.
But I'll display
And soon set to rights
In open day
Such unfair bites.
Cuckolds then will know their friends,
And, in like coin may make amends.

Merc.
When our great sir, shall
Once fix the mode,
Horns universal
Will spread abroad,
And cuckoo that word of fear,
Familiar grow to marry'd ear.

Pol and Mercury together.
Pol.
But I'll display

Merc.
When our great sir

Pol.
And soon set to rights

Merc.
Shall one fix the mode

Pol.
In open day

Merc.
Horns univer-

Pol.
Such unfair bites

Mer.
—Sal will spread abroad

Pol.
Cuckolds then will know their friends

Merc.
And cuckoo that word of fear,

Pol.
And, in like coin may make amends

Merc.
Familiar grow, to marry'd ear.

Mercury re-ascends, and Pol Exit.

SCENE Midas's Parlour.
Midas, Mysis, and Pan, discovered in consultation over a large bowl of punch, pipes and tobacco.
RECITATIVE.
Mid.
Come, Pan, your toast.—

Pan.
Here goes, our noble Umpire,

Mys.
And Pol's defeat—I'll pledge it in a bumper.

Mid.
Hang him, in every scheme that whelp has cross'd us.

Mys.
Sure he's the devil himself

Pan.
Or doctor Faustus.

Mys.
Ah! Squire—for Pan wou'd you but stoutly stickle,
This Pol would soon be in a wretched pickle.

Pan.
You reason right—

Mid.
His toby I shall tickle

Mys.
Look, Squire, I've sold my butter, here it's price is
At your command, do but this jobb for Mysis.
Count 'em.—Six guineas and an old jacobus
Keep Pan, and shame that scape-grace coram nobus.

AIR V. Baaltiorough.

Mark what I say, you'll repent if
Conscience's qualms you attend to;
You a great shire's representative
And not one job for a friend do?
Rouze up, nor thus your grave noddle shake,
Fob off this tatterdemallion,
We'll stick to Pan, his party take,
For Pol's a paltry rascallion.

RECITATIVE.
Pan.
(aside)
The justice in quandary!—Gad, we have him.—
Gammer, Pol's pipe is out; brandy can't save him.

Mid.
Goody, as 'tis your request,
I pocket this here stuff,
And, as for that there peasant,
Trust me, I'll work his buff.
At the musical struggle
I'll bully and juggle,
My award's
Your sure card,
Blood, he shall fly his country—that's enough.
AIR VI. To its own Tune.

If in the courts your suit depend,
Or a cause you'd fain do hurt in,
Be sure you make the judge your friend
By a tip behind the curtain.
Then decree goes
Plump against your foes,
Tho' before it seem'd uncertain.

RECITATIVE.
Pan.
Well said, my lad of wax—since you're so mettled
I'll have one tryal with this fop—that's settled.
A word i'your ear—You'll find it no hard matter,
When she'as lost Pol, to nab our crony's daughter.
AIR VII. Ligurum Cuss.

As soon as her doating piece fairly is sped,
Do you make your push, and a stout one:
For now she has got a sweetheart in her head,
She'll never be easy without one;
Rever'd by the shepherds, caress'd by the nymphs,
No dread or remorse shall come o'er us,
At sessions, in spite of the law and its imps,
We'll kick the whole country before us.

RECITATIVE.
Mid.
Ha! ha! sit down, and make an end o'th'tankard,
I have no head for business till I've drank hard.

Pan.
Nor have my brains guts in them till they're addle,
When I'm most rocky I best sit my saddle.

Mys.
I always chuck a priming at the tap, or
A cogue of Nantzy, just to oil my clapper.

Mid.
Well come, let's take one bouze, and roar a catch,
Then part to our affairs.—

Pan.
A match.

Mys.
A catch.

AIR VIII. A Catch. Cold and Raw.
Mid.
Master Pol
And his toll-de roll-loll,
I'll buffet away from our plain, sir;

Pan.
And I'll assist
Your worship's fist
With all my might and main, sir;

Mys.
And I'll have a thump,
Tho' he is so plump,
And makes such a woundy racket.

Mid.
I'll bluff,

Pan.
I'll rough,

Mys.
I'll huff,

Mid.
I'll cuff,

Omn.
And I warrant we pepper his jackett.

Cho.
I'll bluff, &c.

Mid.
For all his cheats
And wenching feats
He shall rue on his knees 'em,
Or skip, by goles,
As high as Paul's,
Like ugly witch on besom;
Arraign'd he shall be
Of treason to me!

Pan.
And I with my davy will back it;
I'll swear,

Mid.
I'll snare,

Mys.
I'll tear.

Omn.
O rare!
And I'll warrant we pepper his jacket.

Chor.
I'll swear, I'll snare, &c.

[Exeunt.]

SCENE
Discovers Sileno and Damætas in warm argument, on the lawn before Midas's house.
RECITATIVE.
Sil.
My Daphne a wife for thee! the squire's base Pandar!
To the plantations sooner would I send her.

Dam.
Sir, your good wife approv'd my offers.

Sil.
Name her not, Hag of Endor,
What knew she of thee but by thy coffers?

Dam.
And shall this ditch-born whelp, this jackanapes.
By dint of congees and scrapes—

Sil.
These are thy slanders and that canker'd hag's.—

Dam.
A thing made up of pilfer'd rags—

Sil.
Richer than thou with all thy brags
Of flocks, and herds, and money bags.

AIR X. DUETTO.
[Sil.]
If a rival thy character draw
In perfection he'll find out a flaw,
With black he will paint
Make a devil of a saint
And change to an Owl a Maccaw.

Dam.
Can a father pretend to be wise
Who his friend's good advice will despise?
Who, when danger is nigh,
Throws his spectacles by
And blinks thro' a green girl's eyes?

Sil.
Your an impudent pimp and a grub,

Dam.
You are fool'd by a beggarly scrub;
Your betters you snub.

Sil.
Who will lend me a club,
This insolent fellow to drub?
Your an impudent pimp and a grub,

Dam.
Your cajol'd by a beggarly scrub

Sil.
Who will rot in a powdering tub,

Dam.
Whom the prince of impostor's I dub;

Sil.
A guinea for a club,

Dam.
Your bald pate you'll rub

Sil.
This muckworm to drub

Dam.
When you find that your cub

Sil.
Rub off, sirrah, rub, sirrah, rub.

Dam.
Is debauch'd by a whip'd syllabub.

Enter Mysis attended by Dapne and Nysa.
RECITATIVE.
Mys.
Soh!—you attend the tryal,—we shall drive hence
Your vagabond—

Sil.
I smoke your foul contrivance

Daph.
Ah Ny, our fate depends upon this issue—

Nys.
Daph.—for your sake, my claim I here forgo.
And with your Pol, much joy I wish you.

Daph.
O, gemini, say'st thou me so?
Dear creature let me kiss you.

Nys.
Let's kneel, and beg his stay, papa will back us.

Daph.
Mama will storm,

Nys.
What then, she can but whack us.

AIR XI. Quintetto. Viens que I'examine-a-
Daph.
Mother, sure you never
Will endeavour
To dissever
From my favour
So sweet a swain!
None so clever
E'er trod the plain.

Nys.
Father, hopes you gave her,
Don't deceive her;
Can you leave her
Sunk for ever
In pining care,
Haste and save her
From black despair.

Daph.
Think of his charming grace
His voice, shape, and face;

Nys.
Hearts alarming;

Daph.
Bosoms warming
With his soft lay:

Nys.
He's so charming
Ah, let him stay.

Both.
He's so charming, &c.

Mys.
Sluts, are you lost to shame?

Sil.
Wife, wife, be more tame.

Mys.
This is madness!

Sil.
Sober sadness!

Mys.
I with gladness
Cou'd see him swing,
For his badness,

Sil.
'Tis no such thing.

Dam.
Must Pan resign, to this fop, his employment?
Must, I, to him, yield of Daph. the enjoyment?

Mys.
Ne'er while a tongue I brandish,
Fop outlandish,
Daph. shall blandish.

Dam.
Will you reject my income
Herds and clinkum.

Sil.
Rot and sink 'em

Dam.
Midas must judge

Mys.
And Pol must fly

Sil.
Zounds, Pol shan't budge,

Mys.
You lye

Dam.
You lye

[Mys., Dam., Sil.]
You lye, you lye.

Nys.
Pan's drone is fit for wild rocks and bleak mountains

Daph.
Pol's lyre suits best our cool groves and clear fountains.

Nys.
Pol is young and merry

Daph.
Light and airy

Sil.
As a fairy

Nys.
Pan is old and rusty

Daph.
Stiff and fusty

Sil.
Sowre and musty

Daph.
Can you banish Pol?

Nys.
No, no, no, no.
Let Pan fall

Daph.
Ay, let him go.

[Nys., Daph., Sil.]
Ay, let him go.

Mys.
Must Pan resign, to this fop, his employment?

Nys.
Pan's drone is fit for wild rocks and bleak mountains

Dam.
Must I to Pol, yield of Daph. the enjoyment?

Daph.
Pol's lyre suits best our cool groves and clear fountains.

Mys.
Ne'er while a tongue I brandish

Daph.
Pol is young and merry

Nys.
Pan is old and rusty.

Mys.
Fop outlandish

Daph.
Light and airy

Nys.
Stiff and fusty

Mys.
Daph shall blandish

Daph.
As a fairy

Nys.
Sour, and crusty

Dam.
Will you reject my income?

Mys.
Herds and clincum

Nys.
Never think e'm

Sil.
Rot and sink 'em

Daph.
Can you banish Pol?

Mys.
Midas must judge,

Nys.
No, no.

Dam.
And Pol must fly

Daph.
Pray let Pan fall,

Sil.
Zounds, Pol shan't budge

Nys.
Ay let him go

Mys.
You lye, you lye

Nys.
Yes, he shall go

Daph.
Ay, let him go

Sil.
Blood, Pan shall go

Dam.
Poor Pan! poor I!

Mys.
You lye, you lye.

Midas comes forth enrag'd, attended by a crowd of Nymphs and Swains.
RECITATIVE.
Mid.
Peace ho! is hell broke loose? what means this jawing?
Under my very nose this clapper clawing!
AIR XII. Kettle Bender.

What the devil's here to do
Ye logger heads, and gypsies?
Sirrah you, and hussey you
And each of you tipsey is.
But I'll sure pull down your pride as
A gun, or as I'm justice Midas.

CHORUS All.
O Tremendous justice Midas,
Who shall oppose wise justice Midas

[All fall prostrate.
Mid.
I'm given to understand that your all in a pother here
Disputing whether Pan or Pol, shall play to you another year.
Dare you think your clumsey lungs so proper to decide as
The delicate ears of justice Midas?

Cho.
O Tremendous, &c.

RECITATIVE.
Mid.
Soh! you allow it then—Ye mobbish rabble?
Enter Pol. and Pan. severally.
Oh, here comes Pol, and Pan—now stint your gabble.
Fetch my great chair—I'll quickly end this squabble.
AIR XIII. To it's own tune.

Now I'm seated
I'll be treated,
Like the sophi on his throne
In my presence
Scoundrel peasants,
Shall not call their souls their own.
My behest is
He who best is
Shall be fix'd musician chief,
Ne'er the loser,
Shall shew his nose here
But be transported like a thief.

Cho.
O Tremendous, &c.

RECITATIVE.
Dam.
Masters, will you abide by this condition,

Pan.
I ask no better

Pol.
—I am all submission.

Pan.
Strik up, sweet Sir,

Pol.
—Sir, I attend your leisure

Mid.
Pan, take the lead,

Pan.
—Since 'tis your worship's pleasure.
AIR XIV.

A pox of your pother about this or that,
Your shrieking or squeaking a sharp or a flat;
I'm sharp by my bumpers, you're flat, master Pol,
So here goes a set-to at Toll de roll loll.

When Beauty her pack of poor lovers would hamper,
And after miss Will o'the Wisp the fools scamper,
Ding dong, in sing song, they the lady extol;
Pray what's all this fuss for, but—Toll de roll, &c.

Mankind are a medley—a chance-medley race,
All start in full cry to give dame Fortune chace;
There's catch as catch can, bit or miss Luck is all,
And Luck's the best tune of life's Toll lol de roll.

I've done, please your worship, 'tis rather too long,
I only meant life is but an old song;
The world's but a tragedy, comedy, droll,
Where all act the scene of Toll loll de rol lol.

RECITATIVE.
Mid.
By jingo, well perform'd for one of his age;
How, hang dog, don't you blush to shew your visage?

Pol.
Why, master Midas, for that matter,
'Tis enough to dash one,
To hear the arbitrator,
In such unseemly fashion
One of the candidates bespatter
With so much partial passion.
[Midas falls asleep.
AIR XV.

Ah, happy hours, how fleeting
Ye danc'd on down away;
When my soft vows repeating
At Daphne's feet I lay.

But, from her charms when sunder'd,
As Midas' frowns presage,
Each hour will seem an hundred,
Each day appear an age.

RECITATIVE.
Mid.

Silence—this just decree all, at your peril
Obedient hear,—else I shall use you very ill.

The DECREE.

Pan shall remain.
Pol quit the plain.

Chorus,
Oh tremendous, &c.

RECITATIVE.
Mid.
All bow with me to mighty Pan—enthrone him.—
No pouting—and with festal chorus crown him!—

[The crowd forms two ranks beside the chair, and join in the chorus, whilst Midas crowns him with bays.]
CHORUS.
See triumphant sits the bard
Crown'd with bays, his due reward.
Exil'd Pol shall wander far,
Exil'd twang his faint guittar,
While, with ecchoing shouts of praise
We the bagpipe's glory raise.

RECITATIVE.
Mid.
'Tis well!—what keeps you here—you ragamuffin?
Go trudge—or do you wait for a good cuffing?

RECIT. accompanied.
Pol.
Now, listen all—The wrath of Jove, for rapine,
Corruption, lust, pride, fraud, there's no escaping.
Tremble, thou wretch—Thou'st stretch'd thy utmost tether,
Thou, and thy tools shall go to pot together.

AIR XVII. To various Tunes.

Dunce, I did but sham,
For Apollo I am,
God of music and king of Parnass:
Thy scurvy decree
For Pan, against me,
I reward with the ears of an ass.

Grand CHORUS.
Mid.
Detected, baulk'd, and small,
On our marrow bones we fall.

Mys.
Detected, baulk'd, and small,
On our marrow bones we fall.

Dam.
Detected, baulk'd, and small,
On our marrow bones we fall.

Mys.
Be merciful,
Alas, alas!

Dam.
Be pitiful,
Alas, alas!

Mid.
Forgive us, mighty Sol,
Alas, alas!

Pol.
Thou a Billingsgate quean,
[to Mys.
Thou a pandar obscene
[to Dam.
With strumpets and bailiffs shall class.
Thou, driven from man
[to Mid.
Shalt wander with Pan,
He a stinking old goat, thou an ass, an ass, &c.

Mid., Mys., Dam.
Alas! Alas!

Daph.
Now my heart's cur'd of folly.

Nys.
—Be jolly.

Sil.
The Oracle's word
For millions should pass.
Mysis is well parted,

Daph.
And the pimp carted,

Nys.
Squire Midas converted—
Into an ass, O the dull ass!

All together, but to several airs, while Midas joins in chorus, braying like an ass.
Daph.
Into an ass, laugh at the ass!

Sil.
Into an ass, a real ass!

Mys.
What a sad ass,

Dam.
Alas, alas!

Apollo.
Be thou an ass.

Apol.
Be thou squire—his estate
[to Sil.
To thee I translate.
To you his strong chests, wicked mass,
to Daph. & Nysa.
Live happy, while I,
Recall'd to the sky,
Make all the Gods laugh at Midas.

Together, to several airs.
Apol.
All the Gods laugh at Midas.

[Ascends in the Sun:
Dam.
Alas, Alas!

[Exit.
Mid. [Goes about braying like an ass]
Mys.
What a sad pass—Ah, poor Midas.

Daph.
Chang'd to an ass—Well bray'd Midas.

Nys.
Well bray'd Midas; manifest ass.

Sil.
Laugh at the ass; laugh at the ass.

GRAND CHORUS.
Together, with the other nymphs and swains.
Daph.
To the bright God of day

Sil.
Let us dance, sing, and play,

Nys.
Clap hands every lad with his lass.

Daph.
Now criticks lye snug,
Not a hiss, groan, or shrug,
Remember the fate of Midas, Midas,
Remember the fate of Midas.

CHORUS.
Now criticks lye snug, &c.