Mirth and Metre consisting of Poems, Serious, Humorous, and Satirical; Songs, Sonnets, Ballads & Bagatelles. Written by C. Dibdin, Jun |
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MADAM FIG'S GALA;
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258
MADAM FIG'S GALA;
OR, THE YORKSHIRE CONCERT.
I'ze a Yorkshireman just come to town,
And my coming to town were a gay day;
Dame Fortune has here set me down,
Waiting-gentleman to a fine lady;
And Madam gives galas and routs,
While her treats of the town are the talk sheer,
But nought that I'ze seed here abouts
Equals one that was given i' Yorkshire.
Rumpti, &c.
And my coming to town were a gay day;
Dame Fortune has here set me down,
Waiting-gentleman to a fine lady;
And Madam gives galas and routs,
While her treats of the town are the talk sheer,
But nought that I'ze seed here abouts
Equals one that was given i' Yorkshire.
Rumpti, &c.
Johnny Figg was a green and white grocer,
In business as brisk as an eel, sir,
None than John to the shop could stick closer,
But his wife thought it quite ungenteel, sir:
Her neighbours resolv'd to cut out,
And astonish the rustic parishioners;
So invited 'em all to a rout,
And ax'd all the village musicianers.
Rumpti, &c.
In business as brisk as an eel, sir,
None than John to the shop could stick closer,
But his wife thought it quite ungenteel, sir:
Her neighbours resolv'd to cut out,
And astonish the rustic parishioners;
So invited 'em all to a rout,
And ax'd all the village musicianers.
Rumpti, &c.
The company met gay as larks,
Drawn forth all as fine as blown roses;
The concert commenc'd wi' the clerk,
Who chanted the “Vicar and Moses;”
The barber sung “Gall'ry of Wigs,” sir;
The gemmen all said 'twas the dandy,
While the ladies encor'd Johnny Fig, Sir,
Who volunteer'd “Drops of Brandy.”
Rumpti, &c.
Drawn forth all as fine as blown roses;
The concert commenc'd wi' the clerk,
Who chanted the “Vicar and Moses;”
The barber sung “Gall'ry of Wigs,” sir;
The gemmen all said 'twas the dandy,
While the ladies encor'd Johnny Fig, Sir,
Who volunteer'd “Drops of Brandy.”
Rumpti, &c.
259
The baker he sung a good batch,
While the lawyer, for harmony willing,
With the bailiff he join'd in a catch,
And the notes of the butcher were killing;
The wheelwright he put in his spoke,
The schoolmaster flogg'd on with furor,
The coalman he play'd the “Black Joke,”
And the fishwoman roar'd a bravura.
Rumpti, &c.
While the lawyer, for harmony willing,
With the bailiff he join'd in a catch,
And the notes of the butcher were killing;
The wheelwright he put in his spoke,
The schoolmaster flogg'd on with furor,
The coalman he play'd the “Black Joke,”
And the fishwoman roar'd a bravura.
Rumpti, &c.
To strike the assembly with wonder,
The Miss 'Screams a quintette, loud as Boreas,
Sung, and wak'd farmer Thrasher's dog, Thunder,
Who, jumping up, join'd in the chorus.
A donkey, the melody marking,
Popp'd in too, which made a wag say, sir,
Attend to the Rector of Barking's
Duet with the Vicar of Bray, sir.
Rumpti, &c.
The Miss 'Screams a quintette, loud as Boreas,
Sung, and wak'd farmer Thrasher's dog, Thunder,
Who, jumping up, join'd in the chorus.
A donkey, the melody marking,
Popp'd in too, which made a wag say, sir,
Attend to the Rector of Barking's
Duet with the Vicar of Bray, sir.
Rumpti, &c.
A brine-tub, half full of beef salted,
Madam Fig had trick'd out as a seat, sir,
Where the taylor, to sing, was exalted,
But the covering crack'd under his feet, sir;
Snip was sous'd in the brine, but soon rising,
He bawl'd, while they laugh'd at his grief, sir,
Is't a matter so monstrous surprising
To see pickled-cabbage with beef, sir?
Rumpti, &c.
Madam Fig had trick'd out as a seat, sir,
Where the taylor, to sing, was exalted,
But the covering crack'd under his feet, sir;
Snip was sous'd in the brine, but soon rising,
He bawl'd, while they laugh'd at his grief, sir,
Is't a matter so monstrous surprising
To see pickled-cabbage with beef, sir?
Rumpti, &c.
To a ball then the concert gave way,
And for dancing no souls could be riper;
So struck up the “Devil to Pay,”
But Johnny Fig paid the piper;
The best thing came after the ball,
For to finish the whole with perfection,
Madam Fig ax'd the gentlefolks all
To sup off a cold collection.
Rumpti, &c.
And for dancing no souls could be riper;
So struck up the “Devil to Pay,”
But Johnny Fig paid the piper;
The best thing came after the ball,
For to finish the whole with perfection,
Madam Fig ax'd the gentlefolks all
To sup off a cold collection.
Rumpti, &c.
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