Sophia's Letter to the B---r---n Ger---b or Whiskers in the Dumps. With Old Sighs Set to New Tunes. A Poem [by George Daniel] |
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 | Sophia's Letter to the B---r---n Ger---b |  |
Say, reader, hast thou seen Grimaldi,
Renown'd for making faces all day?
For if thou hast the Muse will vouch O!
Thou seest the B---n's visage fair,—
'Twas horrible, past all compare,
Much like the phiz of Russian bear,
Or that fam'd hero Scaramoucho.
Renown'd for making faces all day?
For if thou hast the Muse will vouch O!
Thou seest the B---n's visage fair,—
'Twas horrible, past all compare,
Much like the phiz of Russian bear,
Or that fam'd hero Scaramoucho.
17
“Ye sprites,” (he cried) “ye fiends, ye devils,
Who in hell's chambers hold your revels!
As you expect my love and favour,
Broil that infernal jade Sophia,
In Satan's fiercest hottest fire,
And bury her in Etna's lava!!!
Who in hell's chambers hold your revels!
As you expect my love and favour,
Broil that infernal jade Sophia,
In Satan's fiercest hottest fire,
And bury her in Etna's lava!!!
“Have I not out of pure humanity—
(Which some vile cowards, call'd insanity,)
Plung'd in the Danube's roaring tide, sir?
Ran races up the burning mountains,
Shed hostile blood, egad in fountains—
And play'd a hundred tricks beside, sir?—
(Which some vile cowards, call'd insanity,)
Plung'd in the Danube's roaring tide, sir?
Ran races up the burning mountains,
Shed hostile blood, egad in fountains—
And play'd a hundred tricks beside, sir?—
“Whose whiskers shall with mine compare,
Zounds! who can boast of such a pair?
Not Sk---ff---n, nor barber R---ss, sir:—
And though your British wits may quiz,
By Jove! you will not match my phiz,
From Aldgate Pump, to Charing Cross, sir.
Zounds! who can boast of such a pair?
Not Sk---ff---n, nor barber R---ss, sir:—
And though your British wits may quiz,
By Jove! you will not match my phiz,
From Aldgate Pump, to Charing Cross, sir.
“Had fair Calista, am'rous goddess,
(Array'd in stomacher and boddice,)
Beheld my person, light and airy O!
She would not once have turn'd her eye
(And all will guess the reason why,)
To view that powder'd prig Lothario.”
(Array'd in stomacher and boddice,)
Beheld my person, light and airy O!
She would not once have turn'd her eye
(And all will guess the reason why,)
To view that powder'd prig Lothario.”
18
Von Tromp stood trembling, where's the wonder?
To see the B---n rave like thunder,
To see him start, and shake, and wince,
Like Hamlet, Denmark's frighted prince,
Who when he sees his father's sprite
All clad in polish'd armour bright,
And hears his story, let me tell ye,
Shakes like a glass of calf's-foot jelly.
His eyes he roll'd, and swore with fury,
Like nymph from Billingsgate or Drury;
He gnash'd his teeth in dreadful dolour,
And stamp'd his foot like any stroller,
Who blest with genius economical,
Makes tragedy most vastly comical.
To see the B---n rave like thunder,
To see him start, and shake, and wince,
Like Hamlet, Denmark's frighted prince,
Who when he sees his father's sprite
All clad in polish'd armour bright,
And hears his story, let me tell ye,
Shakes like a glass of calf's-foot jelly.
His eyes he roll'd, and swore with fury,
Like nymph from Billingsgate or Drury;
He gnash'd his teeth in dreadful dolour,
And stamp'd his foot like any stroller,
Who blest with genius economical,
Makes tragedy most vastly comical.
But, like a hurricane so strong,
That cannot hold its fury long,
His passion soon resign'd its reign,
And reason blest the B---n's brain.
That cannot hold its fury long,
His passion soon resign'd its reign,
And reason blest the B---n's brain.
He sat him down beside the fire,
And penn'd an answer to Sophia;
If 'twas a kind, or angry strain,
Some future doggrel may explain—
And penn'd an answer to Sophia;
If 'twas a kind, or angry strain,
Some future doggrel may explain—
19
Suffice it that I tell the world,
The B---n bold outliv'd the fray,
And rose next morning blythe and gay,
To dress, and have his Whiskers curl'd.
The B---n bold outliv'd the fray,
And rose next morning blythe and gay,
To dress, and have his Whiskers curl'd.
| Sophia's Letter to the B---r---n Ger---b | |